


The Bloody Demon of the Wave

by fina5



Category: Naruto
Genre: BAMF Haruno Sakura, F/M, Hatake Kakashi is a Troll, Hokage Hatake Kakashi, Naruto is a dork, POV Female Character, Revenge, Sasuke has the emotional range of a teaspoon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-08-23
Packaged: 2019-05-18 18:29:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 11
Words: 41,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14857979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fina5/pseuds/fina5
Summary: After being unjustly frozen in time for 36 years, Uzumaki Nara is rescued from her prison and forced to come to terms with a changed world. Her sister Kushina has died, she has a nephew the same age as herself, and she can't help but be drawn to an alluring man that she knows to be wary of. Most unsettling of all, old enemies lurk in the shadows, waiting to destroy the peace.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.
> 
> Please read, comment & enjoy!

Sasuke waits for Naruto at their designated meeting spot. The former rogue nin had agreed to join Naruto in visiting Naruto's mother's village before returning to Konoha. He had travelled for two years after the Fourth Shinobi World War, searching for the meaning of his post-Itachi life. Unable to find it, he had decided to return to his birthplace and former home of his clan. Though slightly aggravated at the implications of returning to a village that had brought him so much pain, he found himself more annoyed at his former teammate's tardiness, as he was only now starting to sense Naruto's chakra when he should've been able to over an hour ago.

"Dobe," he mutters once he knows Naruto is within earshot. "You're late."

"Ah, don't worry about it, Teme. If I can wait two years for you, you can wait an hour for me." Naruto gives Sasuke a smug look, unflinching under a hard glare that would leave most others running for the hills.

The Uchiha finally relents, breaking his angry stare as he pushes himself off the tree he had been leaning on. He starts to walk away at a brisk pace, knowing the blond will follow him. "We're a half an hour outside of Uzushiogakure. If we head out at a decent speed now, we'll reach your mother's village by noon." Naruto rolls his eyes at his friend's deceptively cold tone, catching up to Sasuke.

* * *

They arrive in the deserted village with the sun at its highest point in the sky, its rays shining down over the wreckage. Sasuke knows that the Uzumaki clan had been wiped out decades ago, but the debris and torn-apart buildings hold a chilling resemblance to the Uchiha district in Konoha—no one had bothered to repair the empty homes after Pein had leveled the village—rubbing him the wrong way. However, he doesn't let it show.

Naruto had stopped outside of the gate of the village, half of it blown away by whatever had struck the place, leaving splintered wood and craters in its wake. He looks up at a sign above the gates, the remaining writing on it unreadable. After a few more seconds, he slowly strides through the entryway. The young men walk around the village streets aimlessly, few things drawing their attention as it's mostly rubble anyway.

Naruto begins to wonder once again what it must've been like to have your clan annihilated, but this time from a different perspective. He had always tried to understand how Sasuke felt about the death of his clan, but had surprisingly never considered the extermination of his own clan as he had never felt that he was a part of it. He and Karin are the only survivors of the clan, but both of them feel disconnected to it, which was part of the reason he had decided to see the village for himself. Once again, Naruto recalls his conversation with Karin when she had been in Konoha a year and a half ago.

_Karin huffed at Naruto, feeling offended by his question, though not sure why. "Listen," she'd started, "I know that technically we're family and blah blah blah, but I don't care. I didn't come here to catch up with you or go on a road trip with you."_

_Naruto sighed, a part of him having expected being brushed off by Karin. "Don't you have any interest in seeing where our parents grew up?"_

_She rolled her eyes from behind her glasses. "No. The only reason they survived is because they_ left. _Don't waste your time on something so_ pointless _—going there won't bring them back." She'd said this with a tinge of bitterness, and so Naruto had decided not to push her further._

Breaking out of his thoughts, Naruto finds himself at the edge of the village. Sasuke is looking at him expectantly, clearly waiting to see what he wants to do next. His eyes scan the area, landing on a small, surprisingly untouched building several yards away. The boys start towards it, examining the building as they go.

The building is circular and appears to have two stories. At its front, there are double-doors with visible hinges, meaning that they open outwards, indicating that the building likely held sensitive information. This surprises neither of the young shinobi, as the village produced its own shinobi.

Sasuke tells Naruto to stop when they get within ten feet of the structure, sensing latent chakra built into it. Experimentally, he presses his hand against one of the doors and is simultaneously met with a force that throws him backward twenty feet. Though surprised, the seasoned shinobi lands on his feet, observing the surge of suddenly active chakra in the door with his sharingan. Naruto shouts at Sasuke from his place by the building, asking if he's okay. Sasuke ignores him as he strides back to the structure.

"The building has chakra built into it. From what I've assessed, there appear to be no flaws, so I assume that there is a seal somewhere on the structure that the Uzumaki clan placed. There's nothing I can do about it without any other resources. Let's move on," Sasuke states.

"Wait, wait!" Naruto shouts, suddenly excited after digesting the information that Sasuke gave him, though he had sensed the chakra himself. "If the Uzumakis placed the seal, then maybe I can break it." His eyes hold a hopeful glint, feeling connected to village for the first time since their arrival. His companion stares back with no emotion in his eyes, his disbelief evident. Ignoring him, Naruto takes the few necessary steps to reach the doors of the building, closing his eyes and placing his hands on the wood, trying to find the seal before he's blown away. Seemingly unsuccessful, he awaits the surge of chakra that hit Sasuke, but nothing comes. He opens his eyes and jumps, shouting, "Yes, I did it! Come on, Teme, let's go inside." With that, he rips the door open and happily saunters inside.

Surprised, the Uchiha blinks in confusion as he knows that Naruto didn't deactivate any seals. Regardless, he quickly steps inside the building before the door closes, skeptical of his ability to open it despite the younger ninja's success. Ending up in a large hallway, he follows Naruto's footprints on the dusty floor to a room with high ceilings that clearly took up half of the structure. In the center of the room stands a large cylinder, dust covering its glass. Naruto stands nearby, cringing at an unfortunate skeleton with its bony hand atop a concrete stub protruding from the ground. Naruto turns to look at Sasuke as the door clicks shut. "What the hell happened here?" Sasuke shrugs in response, the room reminding him of Orochimaru's lab. An uneasy feeling sprouts in his chest when he notices another chakra source within the large cylinder. The source is different from the one within the building's structure, which was latent and unspecific. This one feels frozen, yet alive.

Naruto, taking Sasuke's contemplative silence as an indicator that Sasuke is also wondering about the strange chakra source within the cylindrical object, walks around, finding another skeleton in a similar position. Continuing next to the circular edge of the room, he stumbles upon yet another small stump, this one without a skeleton leaning on it. He blows the dust off the top of it, finding the symbol of wind-type chakra engraved there. Curious, he brushes his hand over it, and the large glass cylinder begins to shake.

"Naruto!" Sasuke shouts from across the room, alarmed by the sudden movement of the inanimate object. Jogging over to him, Naruto guiltily confesses that this may be his fault. Sasuke gives him a wide-eyed glare, pissed that he may have to fight the source of the chakra within the cylinder that was no longer frozen, but still very much alive.

Both expecting the worst, Naruto and Sasuke are surprised when a young woman pushes herself out of the top of the cylinder, soaking wet and gasping for air. She drops to the floor at the bottom of the giant glass container, stumbling a bit. Both boys notice that her chakra levels have decreased greatly from when she was frozen.

The girl presses one hand to the wall of her former prison and the other to her chest, short, wet red hair sticking to her face and neck in clumps. If she notices either of her unwitting rescuers, she doesn't show it.


	2. Return to Konoha

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read, comment & enjoy!

My chakra levels are uncomfortably low, and I've been coughing up that gross jelly-water for a minute. What the hell is going on?

I look at my right hand, which is pressed against the water prison.

Damn them, so they really did put me in there. 

One question tugs at my mind: for how long? How many days has it been?

Blinking, I look to the side, my eyes running across a skeleton on one of the locks. I scream in shock, alarmed that anyone would leave a dead body in here for so long. Once again, what the hell is going on?

"Hey, it's okay," I suddenly hear. I jump at the voice and look up, cursing my fragile state all the while. I'm met with the sight of a blond kid with whiskers and some emo weirdo in a cloak.

Seriously, what the hell is going on?

"Who—" I start, but my throat burns at the rubbing of my vocal cords, cutting me off. I cough and shake, suddenly cold from the jelly-water. It occurs to me that my condition will only get worse with this chakra-stealing crap all over me, so I'm too weak to fight these guys, both of whom have insane chakra signatures.

The blond answers my unfinished question. "I'm Uzumaki Naruto, and this is Uchiha Sasuke." Ah, an Uchiha. No wonder he's so emotionless. I roll my eyes, and my teeth start to chatter, probably making it look like I'm having a seizure.

Wait. Did that _blond_ kid say he was an Uzumaki? I try to question him, but my voice fails me again. 

The Uchiha approaches me, stopping three feet away. "Why were you in that . . . thing?"

I blanch, trying to think of an appropriate answer. Clearly, they’re leaf ninja, and unless they’re ANBU, they shouldn't know about this place. Moreover, if I tell them the reason I got locked in here in the first place, they'd probably kill me, depending on their allegiance to their Hokage.

Impatient and likely annoyed by my lack of response, the Uchiha crosses his arms. "Um," I begin, my voice cracking, "I, um, I was testing it with the other . . . scientists and I was the subject. They were supposed to let me out after a few minutes, but clearly things went awry."

A minute passes, the dark-haired nin clearly trying to tell if I'm lying. "Hn, fine," he finally says and walks away. The other one takes his place, kindly putting is jacket around my shoulders. I slide my arms through the sleeves and zip it up, still freezing.

"Thanks," I grind out.

"No problem," he happily chirps. We start to follow his friend toward the exit. "So, what's your name," he asks, excited.

"Uzumak—" I stop when I realize the implications of giving them my real name. Even if by some fluke they didn't know that they should kill the girl in the water prison, they’d definitely know to kill Uzumaki Nara. "Uzumaki Misao," I lie, using my mother's name, guessing he'd never heard it despite his claim that he was part of our clan. I'd never seen or heard of him. Moreover, I'd never seen or heard of a _blond_ Uzumaki either.

"Cool!" he shouts, causing me to startle pathetically. Man, being in the water prison really takes it out of a person. He continues to prattle on about how _cool_ it is to find another Uzumaki, especially after the clan's extermination.

Wait. _Clan's extermination?_

My feet stop dead at his words, leaving me just outside of the interrogation building. I look around at the wreckage of the village in horror. My breath catches in my throat and panic begins to claw at my insides. Without thinking of the consequences, I use my remaining chakra to feel for another living soul.

Just as I black out, I find my answer: none for miles.

* * *

As I come to, I feel wind whipping at my cheeks, and my heels bopping against each other. I peel my eyes open, and though they burn with the wind rushing at them, I manage to look up into the face of Uzumaki Naruto, the strange boy from what I was hoping had been a nightmare.

Oh, well.

Noticing that I'm awake, he halts his running, shouting at his companion to stop. He sets me down carefully, which annoys me to no end. How dare he coddle me? I'm not some helpless, damsel in distress. Especially now with all the jelly-water having blown off of me during his carrying me, my chakra levels are already climbing back to normal, though they are a long ways off.

Concern still irritatingly etched onto his face, he says, "We can rest for a while if you want, but we're taking you to the Konoha hospital. Your chakra levels—" Everything else he says after that blends into meaningless chatter. They're _taking_ me to Konoha? Could this _be_ any more perfect? With this, the Hokage's head will practically fall right into my hands.

After I sever it, of course.

I hide my victorious smirk from the blond _bimbo_ before me, daydreaming about the expression that'll be on that old man's face when I show up with two of his own ninja. I told Danzo that he would regret taking Kushina from me, and now he will.

I keep up my dumb act the rest of the way to Konoha, storing up my chakra. At this point, my levels are that of an average chuunin, but I can use all of it to exterminate the Hokage on the spot. I'll be dead afterward, anyway.

Once at the gate, Naruto explains that they're taking me to the hospital, and they just let us through! They didn't even look twice at me! _Me,_ the Bloody Demon of the Wave.

Once further inside the village, I convince Naruto to put me down again. Waving my hand in front of his face and locking eyes with the Uchiha, I place them both under the best genjutsu I can manage and take off towards the Hokage tower at full tilt. When I set my sights on the familiar structure, I jump onto one of the adjacent buildings, run along the roof, and dive through the window into the Hokage's office. My body hums from the thrill of how easy this is, even with my chakra almost completely depleted. I turn towards the Hokage's desk slowly, surprised that he hasn't attacked yet.

Also, this guy's chakra feels completely different, but still vaguely familiar. Weird.

Finally, face to face with the Hokage, my jaw drops.

"Sakumo?" I squeak. The man before me—definitely _not_ the Third—has the silver hair of none other than Hatake Sakumo, but that's impossible. Since when is Sakumo the Hokage? And why is his chakra so different? Why does _he_ look so different?

"No," the man before me drawls, ignoring my look of angry indignation and shock. "Try again."

"Kaka-chan?" I screech, watching him nod in horror.

Hearing the door open behind me, I turn to defend myself, initially thinking that those boys had finally caught up. However, I'm greeted with the sight of a young blond woman that looks the same as the day I had first met her.

"Tsunade?"


	3. Betrayal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read, comment & enjoy!

I remember my capture like it was yesterday. I mean, it _feels_ like yesterday is what I mean. Still not sure if it _was_ yesterday. Well, Kakashi looks like he’s in his thirties, and he _was_ two-weeks-old when I got locked up, but that doesn’t mean it’s been more than thirty years.

Right?

* * *

 _After hearing the news that Danzo_ _—_ _that stupid_ bastard— _had plans to take my sister from Uzushio while I was away, I raced back home a full speed, hoping that I wasn’t already too late._

_Once in range of the village, I tried to locate her via chakra, but came up with nothing. My skin began to tingle with panic as I expected the worst. She couldn’t have been dead, though. Why would they kill the girl they wanted to be the next Jinchuuriki of the Nine Tails?_

_I forced more chakra into my legs, compelling them to go faster. Bypassing the village gates, I arrived outside of the apartment I shared with Kushina in the Uzumaki compound within seconds. Using my signature jutsu, which I had regrettably dubbed “Merge no jutsu” when I was nine, I fused my cells with my chakra, then willed them to move alongside the molecules in the outside walls of my apartment, allowing me to pass through the solid object._

_I ran from room to room, checking even my parents’ old bedroom, though no one had been in there for years without the intention of dusting the furniture. After checking her room a second time, it was clear that Kushina was not at home, so I ran back out into the living room, planning on asking my aunt if she had seen Kushina. I stopped when I saw the figure by the doorway, his back tense and his stare unreadable._

_“Jiraiya?” I blurted out in shock. How did he keep getting in here without breaking anything? Did he have a key I didn’t know about? I started to walk to the door. “Listen, I can’t talk right now. I have to find Kushina. Danzo has officially ordered her capture.” My hand closed around the doorknob just as I felt the 28-year-old nin grab my bicep. I paused, irritated that he was taking up so much of my time. “Jiraiya, seriously, I need to—”_

_“_ _We_ _’re not capturing her. She’s just being taken to Konoha for an assessment,” his voice had a calming lull to it, but I was too frazzled to be soothed at that moment._

_“Oh, that’s crap! You and I both know that if—wait,” I stopped myself, cold realization sinking into my bones._

_He was here to take her away._

_“No,” I spouted uselessly, knowing it would do nothing. Curious, I reached out with my chakra and was unsurprised to feel Tsunade at the edge of the village. My breathing began to shorten, and doubt started to creep in. With the two Sannin here, could I manage to keep Kushina?_

_“Nara,” he said, looking into my eyes, trying to placate me. “If you comply now, you’ll have the chance to talk to the Hokage—to change his mind. I don’t want to fight you, but if you jeopardize our mission, I will have to.”_

_I ripped my arm out of his grasp and slipped through the wall again, forgoing the door. His betrayal stung in the worst possible way. How could he help Danzo and the Third take away the only thing I had left? I jumped onto the roofs of adjacent buildings, making my way towards Tsunade, assuming that Kushina’d be with her._

_Before I was halfway there, I felt Jiraiya’s chakra spike, his familiar transition into Sage Mode urging me to go faster. I couldn’t let him take me out. With him in Sage Mode, he was much faster, using Bunshin no jutsu would be pointless, and Merge no jutsu would be ineffective on him._

_My stomach jumped when I suddenly felt him next to me, and in the next second I had been thrown to the ground below us, creating a crater beneath me. I pushed myself onto my elbows and looked up at him. He stood not ten feet from me, a guilty expression painted over his features. Ma and Pa sat on his shoulders, looking sorry for me._

_My resolve hardened. He wasn’t going to stop me. I would make sure of it._

_“Jiraiya,” I ground out, furious. “After I leave what’s left of you here, I am going to kill your precious sensei!” I shot up at him, just missing him with my kunai. For several minutes, we went back and forth with ninjutsu, leaving cuts and scrapes on each other, but neither of us making any fatal wounds. Finally, I managed to shove my kunai into the left side of his lower back, shocking him out of Sage Mode. Victorious, I activated Merge no jutsu and put my arm through his neck. He froze, knowing that the second I deactivated my jutsu, he’d be left with a hole in his neck, and he’d be dead. I waited for the moment when I would do it, but it never came._

_“_ _Nara, don_ _’t do this. If you come with us to Konoha, things may change.” I could feel his voice vibrate through my arm._

_“No,” I responded, my voice coming out small and anguished despite my best efforts. “Danzo hates me. If he gets his hands on Kushina, he’ll never give her back.”_

_At my words, his eyes took on a different light, and in them, I could see that he knew he couldn’t change my mind. He’d finally given up on me. “I’m so sorry, Nara.” Before I could respond or even move, he jumped away, landing on top of the interrogation building. I continued to stand in the same place, letting his betrayal once again slam me in the gut. I had lost yet another person to Danzo’s will. Angry, bitter, hurt and furious, I began to see red._

_Launching myself into the sky, I aimed myself at Jiraiya and activated Merge no jutsu, planning on pushing him through the interrogation building and leaving him underneath it. The wind whipped around me as I fell towards him, causing my eyes to sting and tears to spring out. Well, that’s what I wanted to believe caused the tears, at least._

_My hands grabbed onto his shoulders, and the both of us fell through the ceiling. My back was to the floor, so I was looking up at him as he once again went into Sage Mode, relinquishing my hold on him. Anger bubbled within my chest. I righted myself midair so that I’d land on my feet, but I suddenly found myself trapped within the water prison that I had unwittingly gone through the top of. I saw Jiraiya land on the glass above me, looking down in regret as I struggled to move through the thick jelly-water that had deactivated my jutsu and started sucking up my chakra. My eyes widened in horror as I felt the machine buzz to life. I knew that if I couldn’t get out, I would be frozen in the prison indefinitely and at the mercy of my captors, people of my own clan that had betrayed me, as well._

_I supposed it was fair, though. Perhaps this was karma, coming back to get me for all the terrible things I had done._

_In my last moments of mobility, I stretched my right arm upward toward my old friend and shouted his name, my voice muffled by the water._

* * *

Standing in the Hokage’s office, I stare at Tsunade. “How could you?” I bite out, pain from my memory etched onto my face. She sighs, looking overwhelmed. For a moment, I feel a twinge of concern, but I quickly push it down. Unmoving, I watch her walk over to and lean on the Hokage’s desk. We stare at each other for several minutes in complete silence. I can tell that she’s sizing me up, seeing if I’m capable of attacking. Examining her myself, it’s clear that she’s only grown in power, and she’s much more mentally stable than she once was.

The three pairs of eyes in the office slide to the door as Uzumaki Naruto and Uchiha Sasuke arrive on the other side of it. I roll my eyes. Some Uchiha—takes him eight minutes to extract himself from my jutsu. The blond bursts into the room with his friend not far behind him, their anger evident in their expressions. The Uchiha moves to stand in the corner, and Naruto brashly marches toward me, shouting, “Kakashi-sensei! Baa-chan! This woman _attacked_ Sasuke and me!” I scoff. If placing two naïve idiots under a mediocre illusionary jutsu constitutes attacking them, then _sure,_ I attacked them. His attention drawn back to me by the vocalization of my incredulity, Naruto begins to approach me. With my limited knowledge of him, I decide not to take any risks. I snap my fingers in the space between his eyes, capturing his attention and trapping him in a slightly different illusion from before.

“Nara,” Tsunade reprimands me in a clipped, disapproving tone. I shrug at her. Naruto attempts to break himself out of the jutsu using a technique that Jiraiya had taught me years ago, taking me by surprise. However, the Uchiha decides that Naruto is taking too long, so he taps him on the shoulder, effectively dispelling the jutsu.

Okay, so he’s better than I’d initially thought.

“Dammit, Sas’ke! If you had just given me one more second, I could’ve done it this time,” Naruto shouts at his friend, clearly having forgotten about me.

“Hn,” the other boy replies, going back to his place by the wall.

Tsunade sighs again and tells the boys to wait outside the office.

“But Baa-chan—”

_“_ _Naruto._ _”_

Suddenly sheepish, the so-called Uzumaki finally shuts his trap, leaving the room quietly after sticking his tongue out at me. When the door closes behind them, Tsunade asks me to place a seal on the room so that they can’t hear us. Not seeing why it’s necessary, I begrudgingly comply. Once finished, I turn back to her, raising my eyebrows expectantly.

She shares a glance with Kakashi, and then clears her throat. “When did you get out?”

I feign a look of pondering. “You mean, out of the _prison_ you helped lock me in?” When she doesn’t reply, I continue. “To be honest, I’m not entirely positive. I suppose it was today, as those two,” I pause, pointing at the door, “were the ones that let me out. Unwittingly, no doubt. They don’t even seem to know who I am.” I stop there, my question evident in my last statement.

When I had been unjustly imprisoned—I think it was unjust, at least—I had just threatened to kill the Sandaime Hokage. Moreover, I was already fairly well-known throughout the Five Nations as the Bloody Demon of the Wave, which should have placed me in the bingo book of every rogue _and_ village nin. The fact that these two clearly jounin-level ninja had not identified me on sight—and had taken me _to_ Konoha—simply didn’t add up.

Tsunade sighs yet _again_ —it’s really starting to get annoying at this point—pinching the bridge of her nose, mumbling about not being drunk enough for this. “Look, Nara, I don’t know how to put this lightly, so I’m just going to say it: it’s been thirty-six years.” At her words, a shiver runs up the back of my neck and I can taste bile in my throat.

My breathing picks up and I start heaving, trying with all my might not to throw up. Tsunade comes over to rub my back, and I gradually calm down. Once my breathing evens out and I wipe the sweat I had felt prickle beneath my headband, I turn to Kakashi. “You’re thirty-six.”

“Almost thirty-seven.”

“No,” I snap back at him. “No, you can’t be. You were a baby. A _baby._ I was taking care of you a week ago. I changed your diaper _yesterday.”_

Tsunade places her hand on my shoulder. “Nara, a lot of things are different now. Why don’t we—”

I cut her off. “Where’s Kushina?”

“Nara—”

Glaring at Tsunade, I slowly repeat myself, “Where is she?” Since I had been taken down, Kushina must’ve been taken to Konoha and made the Kyuubi’s Jinchuuriki. As angry as that makes me, it’s a surprisingly placating thought. It means that she’s in the village.

Tsunade’s eyes take on a familiar depressed look. She’s had it before, but I can’t recall as to when. However, when she tells me to sit down, realization crashes into me.

Those are the eyes she had when she found out about her brother Nawaki’s death.

“No,” I blurt out, but I know it’s pointless. “No, no, no, Tsunade, no.”

“Nara, please.” I freeze up, staring at the floor with my shoulders hunched and my arms crossed, refusing to move. Tsunade takes a long, shaky breath. “I’m so sorry. She’s gone. I’m so sorry.”

I stay silent for a while, trying to hold myself together. I can't let myself be weak right now. I need to find out what's changed since I've been gone so that I can adjust to my new environment. After taking a deep, steadying breath, I ask, "How did it happen?"

Tsunade groans and presses her index and middle fingers to her temples, trying to ward off the headache I must be causing her. "Nara, this is not the time."

"Well, when is?" I shoot back. She doesn't respond. Knowing that I won't be getting anything from her, I turn to Kakashi. "Fine, then. You tell me."

He raises his eyebrow as if to ask me if I'm sure. When I don't respond, he answers my question in the same bored voice that Sakumo always uses in situations that are serious yet not life-threatening. I listen to the entire story, nausea building up in my stomach as he goes on. To have the Kyuubi sucked out of her would've killed her after a few hours, but of course, that damn blood-thirsty demon just had to come back and drive one of his claws through her and her husband after destroying the village.

At the end of his explanation, one question tugs at the back of my mind. "What happened to the child," I ask, as he hadn't explained it.

Tsunade answers for him. "The Fourth Hokage sealed the Kyuubi within him." I blanch in horror, turning to her at her words.

"What?"

"Yes," Kakashi continues, and I turn back to look at him. "Her son was the only capable vessel within the village, and the Kyuubi could not be allowed to continue to rampage, so he became the next Jinchuuriki, and he still is."

With that statement fresh in my mind, a tingling suspicion starts to creep in, and my gaze slowly turns towards the door. My thoughts whirl around, slowly piecing the mystery together. That blond brat that claims the Uzumaki name sure has a lot of chakra, way too much for an ordinary shinobi. Moreover, those whiskers are a dead giveaway. Sure of my assessment, I charge through the door using Merge no jutsu, not in the mood to deal with doorknobs. Naruto jumps at my sudden appearance in the hall, and before he can say anything, I grab his chin and pull his face down so that we're at the same eye-level. I scan his features, dismayed to find they hold an uncanny resemblance to Kushina's.

I'm still staring at him when Tsunade opens the door to the Hokage's office and looks pointedly at me. "Nara, let go of him."

"Yeah, let go, you weirdo," Naruto shouts, grabbing my wrist and pushing me away. Feigning disinterest, I shrug and turn to reenter the office. Unfortunately, Naruto and the Uchiha take this as an invitation to come in, as well. "Hey, Baa-chan, what's going on? Why did you call her 'Nara?' I thought her name was Misao." Tsunade frowns at me at that, clearly shocked that I would use my mother's name, which I hadn't otherwise spoken aloud for nearly seven years.

Oh, wait, it's actually forty-two years. My mistake.

"Nara, why don't you tell him," she says, knowing that I've figured it out. I vigorously shake my head at her, but still my movements when Naruto whips around to stare at me expectantly.

Shooting her one more glare, I answer reluctantly. "First off, my name is actually Uzumaki Nara." I stop there, silently begging Tsunade to finish for me. When she says nothing, I slowly continue. "And _apparently,_ I am your . . . aunt."


	4. Long-Lost Relatives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy read, comment & enjoy!

After having told Naruto that we're related, Kakashi—who had apparently become the Rokudaime Hokage after the Godaime, _Tsunade,_ passed down the job—decided that he wanted explain things to him privately, so Tsunade took me to one of the training grounds on the outskirts of the village to blow off some steam. She and I fell into a strange routine to help me become accustomed to how things are nowadays. We sparred, and every time I landed a hit, she'd tell me something that had changed since I'd been locked away. On the first kick I landed, she'd told me that Kushina had married the Fourth Hokage. That had resulted in me freezing in shock, and I just barely dodged one of her chakra-packed monster punches.

By now, I had also learned that there had been two more Shinobi World Wars, the Uchiha clan had been wiped out, she'd taken on two disciples, and technically, my nephew and I are the same age. The last one had caused me quite a bit of thought. He's nearly eighteen, and since I had been frozen at eighteen in a time-capsule of a prison, I'm still eighteen. Well, I'm really fifty-four, but _yikes,_ I don't want to think about that.

Looking over at Tsunade, I wonder if anyone knows what she really looks like, or if even _she_ knows what she really looks like. She's still using her chakra to look twenty-one, but I know she's actually sixty-four. I'll just keep that to myself, though.

For the next few minutes, neither of us make a mark on the other. Growing exasperated, I push myself a little harder, screaming and finally swiping her legs out from under her and knocking her down with my forearm at the same time so that she can't right herself before falling. She's up again in under a second. I bark out a victorious laugh and smirk. "Two hits! Gotta tell me two facts this time, Tsunade."

Her face takes on a contemplative look as she sorts through all the things she can tell me. She gives me a sad smile. "Sakumo died, and Jiraiya."

The wonted weight of grief crashes down on me for the third time today. My arms go limp at my sides as they fall from their protective stance. The short-lived comfort that sparring gave us is gone. "Damn it, Tsunade," I mumble, "you weren't supposed to tell me depressing shit."

I feel her hand come down on my shoulder. "Sorry, kid. Wanna go drown your sorrows in some sake?"

I shake her off, and unbidden, a surge of misplaced amusement courses through me. "Of _course,_ not! Why would I deliberately disorient myself? No respectable kunoichi should ever—"

"Alright, alright, alright. I get it." She starts making her way back to the village, so I follow suit. I hear her snort from my place behind her. "I forgot how annoying your lectures were."

* * *

Tsunade bangs on the door in spite of my protests. She stops when we hear the inhabitant of the apartment begin to stomp over.

"I don't want to stay here," I repeat in an angry whisper.

"Don't care," she whispers back. The door opens. "Ah, Naruto-kun. How are you?"

"Uh, fine," he responds, his eyes nervously darting over to me.

"Great." Her hand clamps down on my shoulder, and unlike the other times she'd done this today, it's not comforting. She pushes me through the door, though I try to resist. She's just too damn strong. "Well, Naruto-kun, as I'm sure the Rokudaime Hokage told you, Nara will be staying here until further notice." She grabs the doorknob, beginning to close the door. Giving me a pointed stare, she finishes off with: "Be nice."

I look around the apartment. It's rather small, but enough for one person. The living area has a few chairs and a couch littered around a small coffee table, all sitting on a hardwood floor. In the corner is a cramped kitchen, a tall counter separating it from the rest of the main room. Three doors are lined up on the wall opposite to the entrance with various distances between them. Two of them are opened, revealing a bedroom and a bathroom. I assume that the other one is a closet, not interested enough to ask and make certain. Finally, having gone around the entire space, my gaze lands on my nephew.

Nope. Too weird. Just gonna refer to him using his name.

I clear my throat, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "I suppose I should start out by apologizing for lying, and then trapping you and your friend in a genjutsu. . . . Twice."

He places his hands on the back of his neck. "Yeah, don't worry about it."

"Right. Well . . . uh . . ." I trail off, uncertain of what to say. What _does_ one say in such a situation? I mean, sure, _technically_ I'm the adult and I'm supposed to know what to do, but I'm not prepared for this! How could I be? Why would I have expected to be incarcerated without aging physically _or_ mentally for _decades,_ only to come back to find out that my dead eleven-year-old sister had a son that's now as mature as myself? Why did this have to happen?

"So," Naruto starts, distracting me from my internal breakdown. "I made up the couch for you."

I turn to look at the couch again, cocking an eyebrow in question. Sure, if haphazardly throwing a threadbare orange blanket onto the sofa constitutes 'making it up,' then yeah, he did a great job. "Thanks."  I move to sit down, suddenly exhausted, but before I do, I look down at myself, taking in the clothing stained from blood and jelly-water and my grimy skin. Pointing to the bathroom, I ask, "Do you mind if I take a bath?"

"Oh, sure." He walks over to the closed door beside the bathroom and pulls out a purple towel.

So it _is_ a closet.

He hands me the towel. "You can use this one. It's my girlfriend's." I nod and thank him again. "No problem. So, after you get out, can you just turn out the lights in this room? I'll probably be asleep." I frown in confusion. Asleep? Why would he go to sleep before me, someone he barely knows? Any _genin_ knows better than to let their guard down like that.

Once in the bathroom, I move to draw the bath, but quickly notice that there is no bathtub, only a sink, a toilet, and a strange glass stall. I go back outside, asking Naruto where his bath is. Clearly confused by my confusion, he walks past me into the small room. "What?" He points at the glass stall in the corner. "The shower is right there."

"What's a shower?"

A surprised laugh escapes him. "You don't know what a shower is?"

"No," I exclaim. "I've never seen one before. They must be new." He laughs _again,_ and yeah, I start to take it personally. He explains how the shower works, and when he finishes, I only have more questions. "So, it's like bathing in the rain while standing up? How are you supposed to soak the dirt out of your skin?"

He shrugs. "You just scrub it out with soap."

I scoff, skeptical of this _shower_. It doesn't seem as though it should be classified as a modern _advancement_. What was wrong with baths, anyway?

After Naruto leaves, I turn to look at myself in the mirror. My skin is pale, and dark bags have formed underneath my eyes, no doubt from the stress of having chakra slowly extracted from me for nearly the entire duration of Kakashi's life. I remove my long, golden hairpins from the sides of my head first, letting my red locks fall over my cheeks. Next, I untie my headband from where I keep it tied under my hair, then set it down next to the hairpins on the corner of the sink. The symbol of Uzushiogakure glints up at me, and I turn away, not wanting to stew over the now-abandoned and destroyed village.

I unstrap my sandals and step out of my long, blue, standard shinobi sweats. I unhook the straps around the buttons of my shoulder piece and peel off the fabric that covers my arms. I then examine the appendages, checking to see if the identical seals on them had been affected by the chakra-sucking jelly-water. They appear to be fine, if not slightly discolored, a lighter turquoise than usual. However, that's always been the case when my chakra hasn't been at its full capacity, which it certainly isn't now. Moving on, I carefully pull the turtleneck shoulder piece over my head as it's connected to the strapless piece that covers my breasts and the top of my midriff by the stitched red circle containing the symbol of Konohagakure at the back. I take a moment to take in the irony of each village having the other's symbol on their ninjas' backs. If Konoha was so loyal to Uzushio, then why didn't they come to save the village from its destruction? Then again, they undoubtedly worked together to lock me away.

Completely undressed, I run the water from the sink, sticking my clothing articles under the faucet and soaping them up one by one. I try my best to scrub off all of the dirt, grime and stains, but given that it's all dark blue fabric, it's hard to tell how successful I am. Afterward, I spare a little chakra to use Wind Release and blow dry them instantaneously as I have nowhere to hang them or any other clothes to wear.

Stepping into the shower, I turn the nozzle to the left for hot water, but it comes out freezing. I jump in surprise, figuring that I must've forgotten what Naruto said, though that doesn’t seem like me. A shinobi has to comprehend directions as quickly and best as possible in order not to die on a mission. However, I don't have a lot of adrenaline, despite being in a new and unsettling environment; maybe that's why I'm so slow. Though, it could be from the news of Kushina's death. The demise of loved ones has always made me freeze up, even in battle.

I sigh. This really isn't my day.

Once I get the temperature of the water right, I clean myself thoroughly, scraping at my skin even after the soap has washed off, leaving it pink and raw. Afterward, I finally let myself cry, knowing that the hot dribbles of water will wash away anything my tears leave behind.

* * *

Naruto rises three hours after dawn and opens his door to find me lying on couch, staring at the ceiling. I hadn't slept during the night, too disturbed by the previous day's events to let myself rest. At around 2 o'clock, my chakra had returned in full, but I'd placed a seal on myself to suppress it, not wanting to notify anyone from my past of my presence, and to keep others from knowing how powerful I truly am.

He smiles at me in greeting. "Good morning."

"Mornin'," I reply, sitting up to peer over the back of the sofa at him as he enters the kitchen. He wears his shinobi uniform, which is spectacularly orange. I notice that his eyes shine with the same color and excitement that Kushina's used to in the morning, and my heart twists in agony. He pours himself a bowl of cereal.

"Do you want some?" he asks, not looking up. I answer by walking over and leaning on the counter. He smiles at me again as he hands me my bowl, and I return the gesture, but it doesn't reach my eyes. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yeah," I lie. "Did you?"

"Yep!"

The conversation lapses after that, neither of us knowing what to say to long-lost relatives that we didn't know existed until yesterday. Minutes later, a knock sounds at the door, saving us from any further awkward interaction. I recognize the chakra on the other side of the door, and given Naruto's reaction, he does, as well.

"Sasuke-teme! Did you come to see me?"

Naruto's friend ignores him, stepping past him to enter the apartment. He fixes me with the infamous Uchiha glare. "The Hokage wants to speak with us."

I shrug, unsurprised. I step out of the apartment, and both boys follow suit, Naruto shouting at his friend for ignoring him. After a few minutes, we reach the Hokage Tower. All three of us are allowed in, but Naruto is barred from entering the Rokudaime's office. He gets upset, to say the least.

Currently, he's banging on the outside of the door to the office, screaming his head off. "Kakashi-sensei! Let me in!"

I press the heels of my palms into my eyes. "Is he always so loud?"

"Hn," the Uchiha boy answers, though I'm unsure as to whether it was an affirmation or negation.

He bangs on the door again. "Kakashi-sensei!"

"Go away, Naruto," Kakashi calls back. "I don't want to talk to you right now." Naruto continues to whine for a few more seconds, but shuts up when someone approaches him in the hallway. I don't recognize anything significant about the person's chakra, so I assume it's one of his friends.

Kakashi turns back to the Uchiha and me. "So, the reason I called you both here is because you were very recently a rogue nin," he pauses, looking to the impassive boy beside me. I raise an eyebrow in question. "Or," he continues, "you're about to become one." His eyes then focuses on me, and my other eyebrow raises to complete my look of shock. Both of us knowing that we're clearly not on his good side, we remain silent.

"Sasuke, you were pardoned for your crimes—thanks to _me_ —but I still don't completely trust you. And Uzumaki-sama, the last thing you did before being put away was threaten to kill the Hokage."

 _"Unjustly_ put away," I argue.

"Nonetheless. Both of you will therefore be placed on a three months suspension from active duty, and you may not leave the village during this time. Sasuke, at the end of this period, you will be immediately reinstated as a ninja of Konoha. However, Uzumaki-sama, you will have a supervisor for the next three months, and—depending on the evaluation she gives you—I will then decide if you become a Konoha kunoichi."

I hold up my hands in protest. "Hold on. What makes you think I'd want to be a Konoha ninja? This little _village_ you run is responsible for the death of my sister."

His bored expression doesn't waver as he asks, "You'd rather become a missing nin and be hunted down and exterminated?" I wince slightly at the morbid images of my own missing nin-hunting days that flash through my mind's eye at his statement, but don't otherwise react.

Taking our continued silence as agreement to his absurd three-month plan, his face—his eyes, really—turns up in a smile. "Good. For now, you'll both be helping our Interrogation Force make _detailed_ records of any special skills you might have. Yamanaka Ino will escort you." With that he gives his attention back to the papers on his desk, effectively dismissing us.

A girl with the signature long blond ponytail of the Yamanaka clan stands in the hallway, waiting for us. Naruto is nowhere in sight. He must've gotten bored.

She greets the Uchiha in an overly sweet voice. "Sasuke-kun! Good to have you back!"

"Hn. Where's Sakura?"

At his question, all the pleasantness drops from her expression, and part of me wonders if it was ever there to begin with. It is replaced by a cool, challenging look. "Sakura isn't a member of the Interrogation Force, Sasuke. You know that. Why would she be here?"

Oh, damn. She dropped the honorific. I don't who this Sakura person is, but she certainly seems to have quite the effect on these two.

"I don't feel her presence in the village," he clarifies.

She sighs over-dramatically, as though his question is of childlike quality. "Yes, well, she's on a mission. Now," she turns, sauntering away from us. "Sasuke-kun, Uzumaki-san, if you'll follow me."

* * *

I’ve been waiting outside of an investigation room for the Uchiha to finish talking to the Interrogation Force for an hour, and it’s starting to get ridiculous. What could they possibly be discussing? Even if he does have a bunch of crazy jutsus and his clan’s kekkei gekkai up his sleeve, he could simply breeze over everything without giving them too much information—that’s just good sense.

After another _half an hour,_ the door to the investigation room opens, and the scowling young man loses no time in leaving the building. The Yamanaka girl calls me in. I’m asked to sit at a table across from her and a large man named Morino Ibiki. I run my hand over to the back of the offered chair to check for hidden seals. When I find none, I take my seat and lean my elbows on the table. “So, what can I do you for?”

“Uzumaki-sama,” the man starts, obviously not buying my overly relaxed demeanor. “We have a record for you already, but it was made more than forty years ago, so I’m hoping that you’ll fill in any gaps that it may have.”

“Not a problem,” I reply, smiling. “Let’s see, I use taijutsu, genjutsu, ninjutsu, senjutsu, kenjutsu, fuuinjutsu, and—of course—there’s the Uzumaki clan’s kekkei gekkai.” I place my palms on the table, standing to leave. “So, if that’ll be all—”

“Uzumaki-sama, please, sit,” he says. I grumble, but comply. “Why don’t we ask you questions, and you answer?”

I tip my head back, scowling and clenching my teeth. “Fine.”

“Alright.” He looks down at a file in his hands. “Under taijutsu, it says you can open the first of the Eight Gates. Have you progressed since then?”

Crap. I should’ve expected this level of thoroughness from a team called ‘The Interrogation Force.’

“Yes. I’m on the Third Gate.”

He nods, and his younger companion writes it down. “Genjutsu?”

“What about it?”

“Do you have anything worth sharing?”

Sighing, I digress. “I created a jutsu that allows me to review, share and steal memories through touch. Other than that, I use normal ones, I guess.”

“Alright,” he says. Blondie jots something down again. “And you have a Forbidden Seal?”

“Yes.”

“Which Forbidden Seal is it?”

“No.”

“No?”

“No,” I repeat, standing my ground. “Information concerning The Forbidden Seals has been protected by my clan for _centuries._ Don’t think I’ll give it up without a fight.”

Morino Ibiki locks eyes with me, scowling. “Just tell us what else it does.”

“No.”

He squares his jaw in irritation, but moves on. “You use Wind and Lightning Release, right?”

“Right.”

“And you’re a Frog Sage?”

“Toad Sage,” I correct.

“You’re a Sage?” The Yamanaka interjects. “Like Naruto and Jiraiya?”

My brow furrows. “Naruto is a Sage?” How had I missed that? I had spent hours observing his chakra before he’d woken up. There’d been the Kyuubi’s chakra and his own, though there had also been something else that I hadn’t been able to identify. I’d felt no trace of senjutsu usage, but it’s possible that he simply hadn’t used it in a while.

“Yeah. He said that someone named Fukasaku taught him.”

I nod, suddenly remembering the first time I’d met Fukasaku and his wife, Shima.

_Jiraiya had been tasked with training me for combat in the Second Shinobi World War, and he’d decided to take me to Mount Myōboku to study senjutsu. He’d reverse-summoned us into a small house, and I’d promptly fallen to the ground and started hyperventilating._

_“Nara-chan, calm down,” Jiraiya shouted at me._

_“No! It felt like I was being turned inside-out.” My breathing remained heavy, but I eventually stood to survey my new surroundings. We appeared to be in a living room, but everything was tiny, as though it were made for small children. Also, there were a lot of mushrooms._

_“Jiraiya-kun! Who is this?” I looked down to see who’d spoken, spotting two large frogs. One had dark, swamp-green skin and spiky white hair, and the other was much lighter in skin color with purple hair and lips. The darker one took notice of my hair and spoke up again. “Is she an Uzumaki?”_

_I shrieked at seeing him speak, ducking behind Jiraiya. “You’re frogs!”_

“Toads,” _the creature had corrected. “Jiraiya-kun! Why did you bring a skittish little girl here?”_

_He shrugged, laughing. “I didn’t know she’d be so freaked out. I thought she was tougher than this.” His voice had a lilt to it, and I knew he was mocking me._

_I took the bait, stepping out from behind him. “I_ am _tough!”_

_“Then why don’t you act like it?” He pushed me forward. “Now, be polite and greet Ma and Pa.”_

_“Ma and Pa?” I’d repeated. “Are they your parents?” Jiraiya_ was _a pervy weirdo—that would explain things._

_Well, maybe not the pervy part, but the weird part for sure._

_“No! Why would you even think that? Are all ten-year-olds in Uzushio as stupid as you?”_

_I stomped my foot and scrunched up my face at him in annoyance. “I’m not ten, I’m eleven! And I’m_ not _stupid!”_

_“Hey,” the white-haired toad—Pa, I assumed—interjected. “Answer me, Jiraiya-kun!”_

_The man sighed, turning away from me. “I brought her here to learn how to use senjutsu. We’re on a special team for the war, and she needs more training.”_

_Rolling my eyes, I mumbled. “I’m already trained.”_

_“Be quiet,” he shot back. Addressing the toads again, he asked, “So, will you guys please help me train her?”_

_Pa jumped up, grabbing onto the braid that had been hanging over my shoulder and yanking me down to his level. He squinted his eyes and gave my face a one-over. I’d scowled in defiance at being judged, and he’d smiled. “Sure thing, Jiraiya-kun. Shima, feed Uzumaki-chan something. We’ll begin her training afterward.”_

_Ma tapped the back of my hand and motioned for me to follow her to a small table. “Come on, dear. I have just the thing to get you going.”_

“Uzumaki-sama,” Morino repeats, bringing me back to the present. “What kind of sword do you typically use?”

“Hm? Oh, I use dual Dao swords.”

“Okay,” he says, the energy in his voice winding down—not that there was ever very much to begin with. “Now, I know that the Uzumaki clan’s kekkei gekkai is different for each clansman, so can you give me the specifics of yours?”

I place my elbows on the table, folding my hands into a bridge under my nose. “I can steal people’s chakra and use it as is.”

He crosses his arms. “So, if you were to—for example— _steal_ the chakra of the Godaime, you could use healing techniques?”

“Oh, no, I suck at that. Medical ninjutsu is the _one_ thing I just can’t do. However, I could use her Earth Release.”

“Alright. Well—”

“Hold on, I—I’m sorry, Ibiki-san, I keep interrupting, but I have a question. Uzumaki-san, can you explain your clan’s kekkei gekkai?”

Squinting at her, I cock my head to the side, skeptical. “Why?”

“Well, I’m friends with Naruto and I’m pretty sure that he doesn’t know about it, so I want to be able to tell him.”

I scowl at her implication. What? She doesn’t think _I’ll_ tell him?

Nah. She’s right. I’m not exactly the sharing type.

With a sigh, I begin to explain. “Each blood member of the clan can manipulate chakra in a particular way that other ninjas—both within and outside of the clan—cannot,” I explain. “I can steal chakra, Kushina can—”

No, Kushina can’t do anything. Not anymore.

My throat closes up at the thought. All of my emotions from the night before come rushing back, crashing into me and taking my breath away. I had tried to keep them at bay so that I could keep myself together, but I guess I just can’t do it.

I can’t live with the fact that my sister is dead.

I stand abruptly. The legs of the chair screech against the floor as I push it into the table. “This is over, right?”

Morino Ibiki—perhaps taken aback at my sudden change in emotion—nods, and I leave.

I need to blow off some steam.

However, the moment I step out of the room, I realize I won’t be able to. A woman with long, messy hair and dark, red eyes waits for me in the hall.

“Uzumaki Nara-san,” she greets. “Nice to meet you. I’m Yuuhi Kurenai.”


	5. Meeting New People

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read, comment & enjoy!

_Kushina and I had been playing shogi late in the afternoon. Her long hair spilled over her shoulder and onto the shogi board, pushing some of my pieces onto the floor._

_“Kushina,” I shouted. “Put your hair up!”_

_She groaned loudly, but complied, pulling her hair into a large bun. “You’re so annoying,” she whined. She pouted at me, her chubby face conveying feigned anger. I stuck my tongue out at her._

_We continued playing for a few more minutes, but stopped when a knock sounded at the door. I stood to open it, finding a Konoha nin standing on the other side. “Uzumaki-sama,” he’d greeted, out of breath. “It’s time.”_

_Quickly, I’d thanked him and closed the door. I turned to Kushina. “Okay, I have to go.”_

_“No,” she whined while I packed a small bag. “Why?”_

_I sighed apologetically. “You know why.” Hatake Sakumo, my old friend from the Second Shinobi World War, was going to have a baby. I was the godmother, so I had to make it to Konoha before the child was born. Unfortunately, this meant that I had to leave Kushina alone for a few days, but such a thing was not a problem. Sometimes I’d have missions that lasted for months; she’d be fine._

_I threw my bag over my shoulder and put on my forehead protector. I yanked the door open, and before I’d leapt through it to start my journey to Konohagakure, I turned to Kushina and threw my arms open, raising my eyebrows at her expectantly. For a moment, she simply stood there with her arms crossed, refusing to move. However, after some contemplation, she swallowed her pride and shot over to me, wrapping her arms around my middle. “I love you. Come back soon,” she mumbled into my chest._

_I squeezed her back affectionately, then pulled away. “Love you, too, kiddo. See you in a few days.” With a final mussing of her hair, I darted through the door, making for the gates of the village._

_Just before I’d gotten out of earshot, I’d heard her yell, “Kiss the baby for me!”_

* * *

_I arrived at the hospital, my feet slipping along the floor as I grabbed onto a nurse's desk to halt my running. "I need Hatake Kana's room," I'd panted out, still catching my breath from my mad dash to Konoha. The nurse blinked at me, fidgeting uncomfortably. I slammed my hand down onto the desk to speed her along. Sure, I knew it was rude, but I was in a hurry. Sue me._

_"Um . . ." she managed awkwardly._

_I started squirming nervously. "Aw, man, did I miss it?" She didn't answer, instead turning around to exasperatedly gesture to an older nurse._

_Ah, crap. Sakumo was totally going to kill me._

_The older nurse stood up to say something to me, but I cut her off. "Where's the maternity ward?"_

_"The second floor, to the right of the stairs," she answered mechanically, blinking a few times. I started off in the direction of the stairs. The old woman called after me, "Wait, Uzumaki-sama," but I ignored her, using the railings to jump over a few people on the stairs to get to my destination. At the right of the stairs on the second floor, I saw a large glass window that showcased the room with all the babies. Excited, I hopped over to the glass and peered into the room, searching for my godchild. After a few seconds, I spotted a tiny, pale infant with a small shock of white hair on its head. Yeah, definitely Sakumo's kid._

_I squealed in delight. A young doctor shushed me as she passed, and I whispered my apologies, but before she could get away, I stopped her. "Hey, um, excuse me, but do you know where I can find Hatake Kana's room?"_

_A flash of nervousness crossed her features, but it was quickly replaced with the passive look doctors always have before they give you terrible news. I gulped uneasily. "Come with me," she said as she began walking away. I followed her into a small office and was told to "sit tight."_

_I'd waited for several minutes with worry clawing at my sides before the door to the office had opened again, revealing the chief of police, Uchiha Takumi. I stood quickly, my nerves shooting impulsively. "Uchiha-sama," I'd greeted._

_"Uzumaki-sama," he'd returned. "Please sit." Of course, I didn't. That would've been like admitting I was the lesser of the two of us. We were both jounin, so I had no reason to submit to his authority. He continued once he'd realized I wasn't going to move. "Alright. I have disappointing news." My gut clenched uncomfortably. What was wrong? Without breaking eye contact, he said, "Hatake Kana has passed away, and Hatake Sakumo has fled the village."_

_I didn't do anything for several seconds. I let the horror of the news sink in._ Kana was dead, and Sakumo was gone.

_"WHAT," I suddenly screamed. The Uchiha sighed, probably having expected such a response from me. He tried to say something to placate me, but I cut him off. "How could that be? I mean, sure, Kana was sick, like, all the time, but I—I—I—"_

_He started up again, "Uzumaki-sama, please, calm down."_

_"Calm down? You want me to_ calm down?" _I felt my breathing pick up and held my head in my hands, trying to regain my composure. Of course, there's a part of me that had known this would happen—I'd even warned Kana of it when she'd gotten pregnant. She was a civilian, and she was ill—she always had been. However, Sakumo, one of the strongest people I knew, had somehow managed to fall head over heels for her, and they'd gotten married. They'd wanted to start their family straight away, too, given Kana's condition. Honestly, it shouldn't have surprised me that she'd died, and it shouldn't have been so upsetting. I'd only known her for a little over a year, but I guess I'd liked how happy she'd made my friend. My forehead crinkled in concern. Who would he come home from missions to now?_

_Oh, wait, he'd have his child. I felt my face relax again, but then I realized that Sakumo was gone, as well._

_Who would the_ baby _have?_

_Then it struck me: I was the child’s godmother. I would have to look after the baby._

_My head snapped to look at the chief again. “You called me in here to take custody of the kid, didn’t you?”_

_He gave me a tight-lipped nod. “Regrettably, yes.” He pulled a small stack of papers out of the bag at his side. “Here’s the paperwork.” Numbly, I took it and scanned the first page. Without even a word, Uchiha Takumi began to turn towards the door._

_“Wait!” I shouted. He paused. “I don’t want this,” I declared, shoving the papers back into his grasp._

_He sighed once again in the typical Uchiha manner, taking them back. “Fine. I’ll see if the girl had any relatives_ _—_ _”_

_“No,” I cut in. “I’ll take the kid, but I don’t want the custody papers_ _—_ _not yet.” He gave me a look of puzzlement, and I clarified, “Sakumo might still come back.”_

_“How can you be sure?”_

_I shrugged. “I mean, I just can’t believe he’d really_ abandon _his child.” The Uchiha looked skeptical. I sighed, lamenting, “Look, just give him two weeks to return. If he hasn’t by then, I’ll fill out the proper paperwork and take the kid back to Uzushio with me.”_

_The chief nodded, turning to leave again, but paused just before exiting the room. “If I may ask, why two weeks? After all, Hatake won’t be declared a missing nin until he’s gone for two months.”_

_I huffed angrily, squaring my shoulders. “I don’t want him to come back just so he won’t get killed. I want him to come back for the_ child _. Two weeks is enough, if not too much time already.”_

_An hour later, I stood with Sakumo’s son, Hatake Kakashi, in my arms. The boy wriggled and screamed at the top of his lungs. I tried to pacify him with the bottle of formula that one of the nurses had given me, but to no avail._

_I sighed despondently for the millionth time that day. “Oh, Kaka-chan, what the hell am I gonna do with you?”_

* * *

It’s the middle of the night, and I can’t fall a-fucking-sleep. My mind won’t stop replaying memories from the past, and new realizations leave uncomfortable stings of emotion behind.

If only I had known that that short moment after our shogi game would be last time I ever saw my sister. My chest tightens, and I turn over, burying my face into the back cushions of the couch and releasing a low groan of agony. I lie like this for who knows how long.

When the sun finally rises, I rise with it, throwing myself over the back of the couch to land deftly on my feet. I sway slightly before taking a step, which is unsurprising when you consider that I haven’t slept for a week and a half—not that I’m worried. I’m a ninja; I can handle a little sleep deprivation. I mean, I once stayed awake for a straight month during the Second Shinobi World War—despite Tsunade’s rigid opposition—and I had been fine. Well, I suppose ‘fine’ is a relative term. My anti-sleeping campaign had ended with me collapsing in the middle of a battle with Suna and waking up a full three days afterward, but _whatever._

Steadying myself, I lightly walk over to the kitchen so as to not wake Naruto. Honestly, the boy has too much energy. I can’t handle him. He’s constantly asking me questions, trying to introduce me to everyone, forcing me to eat ramen—just like his mother—and worst of all, he insists on calling me “Nara-baa.” I don’t know why either—he thinks it’s cute or some crap like that.

And you know what? I don’t want to talk to him. I don’t even want to be around him because he reminds me too much of his mother. Every smile, every laugh, every pout, every _yawn_ _—_ it’s endless! I can’t handle the strength of the tormenting emotions swirling around inside of me. Ergo, I’ve elected to avoid him. I get up at dawn, train for three hours, spend my mandatory nine hours with Yuuhi Kurenai, visit with Tsunade, slip into his apartment when I know he isn’t home and then feign sleep when he inevitably returns. It’s a perfect system, really. It’s only fault may be that I’m miserable all the time, but whaddaya gonna do?

Suddenly, Naruto yawns loudly and moves in his room. I move quickly, scarfing down the only truly edible thing in Naruto’s fridge—an apple—and go to use the bathroom.

Wait; why do they still call it a _bath_ room? There isn’t even a bath in it anymore! Ugh, this is going to bother me forever.

After I’ve finished, I head out for the day, starting off with a light five-hundred laps around the village.

* * *

I jump along the buildings of Konoha after dusk, arriving at Tsunade's house before long and landing with a thud at her doorstep. Before I can land a knock on the wood of her door, I notice a particularly exuberant young man next to me.

Ah, _crap_.

"Nara-baa!" he exclaims, throwing his arms out from behind his neck and up into the air in his excitement. Sighing deeply, I greet him in return, regretting the fact that I can't seem to catch a _fucking break._ He starts chattering about something and goes on for several minutes, never ceasing long enough for me to interject—not that I'd want to anyway.

Finally, I'm saved by Tsunade when she opens the door. "Naruto! Will you please shu—" She pauses her tirade upon spotting me, and asks, "Nara, what are you doing here?"

I raise an eyebrow at her. "I come here every day. Or did you forget?" With a smirk, I add, "I know it's hard for the elderly to recall things."

Her eyes narrow into slits at my remark, but before she can do anything—like strangle me to death—someone says, “Whoa, does someone have a death wish?” and a girl with pink hair moves out from behind her.

“Sakura-chan,” Naruto whines. “I’ve been waiting here for ten minutes. Can we go now?”

Ah, so this is Haruno Sakura. I’ve heard quite a bit about her from both Naruto and Tsunade. From the looks of her, what they said about her skill appears to be true. She has the same diamond seal as Tsunade on her forehead and a lean, athletic build.

Sakura groans. _“Yes,_ Naruto, we can go now.” Stepping out of Tsunade’s house, she shrugs on her coat, pulling her hair out of the collar once she’s done. Instantly, Naruto attempts to pull her in whatever direction they’re headed, but she drags her feet on the ground, halting him and delaying their departure. Sensing what she’s about to do, I try to dart through Tsunade’s door only to have Tsunade smirk at me and slam it in my face, leaving me to spin around with an awkward smile on my face, pretending that I hadn’t been trying to get away. “So, Naruto,” Sakura starts, “is there anything you want to say?”

Laughing good-naturedly, Naruto puts his hand up to scratch the back of his head. “Right, I almost forgot.” He gestures towards me. “Sakura-chan, this is my mom’s older sister, Uzumaki Nara.” Pointing his thumbs towards the pink-haired girl, he says, “Nara-baa, this is Haruno Sakura, my old teammate.” She and I bow slightly, exchanging words of greeting.

 _And_ awkward silence. Great.

I shift my feet, contemplating how I’m going to get away without being completely rude. Taking refuge in Tsunade’s house is certainly a no-go as she’d forsaken me for the night. Maybe I can just—

“Hey, Nara-baa, do you wanna join us at Yakiniku?”

_Crap._

* * *

To say that I feel out of place at a table with Naruto and his three teammates—two of whom I’ve only met in the last hour—would be a momentous understatement.  At a booth built for four, I sit wedged against a wall next to Naruto with Sakura on his other side, and with five pairs of feet under the table, there’s virtually no wiggle room. We’ve been eating for at least ten minutes, but to be honest, I zoned out after Sakura started talking about her mission and have since lost track of time.

A few minutes pass before I get the nagging feeling that someone is staring at me and look up to find Sai, the pale guy with the creepy smile, looking at me intently. I pause my chewing. “What?”

He rests his chin on one of his hands, continuing to stare before muttering, “I can’t decide.”

Confused, I set my chopsticks down and swallow my food. I look to Naruto. “What is he talking about?”

Naruto rolls his eyes, sharing a look with Sakura, who gives a knowing laugh. “Sai likes to give people nicknames.”

“Why?”

“Uh, well,” he says, stumbling with his words. “It helps him makes friends because he’s kind of emotionally stunted.” I turn back to Sai, surprised to find that he seems unoffended by his friend’s words. I suppose it’s true then.

“I see,” I drawl. “What’re your guys’ nicknames, then?” As if on cue, Naruto, Sasuke and Sakura all shift uncomfortably in their seats, eliciting a surprisingly amused laugh to tumble from my lips. “What, are they that bad?”

Sai gives somewhat of an exasperated sigh. “I still don’t understand why you’re so upset. I’m merely being truthful.”

Suddenly, both Naruto and Sakura slam their hands onto the table, screaming in unison, “No, you are _not!”_ Even Sasuke grumbles quietly with discontent.

Wow. Have I unintentionally struck a nerve? If so, I should really do so more often. This is _hilarious._

A heated argument ensues, and for a short, blissful moment, I manage to forget about all the terrible shit going on in my life and simply enjoy the spectacle before me.

“Look, Sai, I try—I _really_ try—to tolerate the things that you say, but I am _not_ ugly!”

“Ugly, listen—”

“And for the _last_ time, Sai, I am _not_ dickless!”

“Dickless, please, you’re embarrassing yourself.”

“Nuh-uh!”

At this point, I can’t stop myself from giggling, so I try to hide my glee behind my hand.

“Dammit, Sasuke, why aren’t you saying anything? You hate your nickname, too,” Naruto shouts across the table.”

“I’m not going to waste my time arguing with you, Dobe,” he replies with a cold edge to his voice.

Naruto makes to respond, but Sai beats him to the punch. “See, Dickless? Traitor gets it.”

The table falls silent at that, leaving only my quickly dwindling giggles and irritated finger-tapping from Sakura. With tension in the air, the five of us go back to eating. Now that the excitement is gone, my tiredness from not sleeping seeps back in, and my sinuses begin to ache. Suppressing a groan, I massage the bridge of my nose with my fingers, ceasing when Sai suddenly gasps.

He has a triumphant smile on his face as he proclaims, “I’ve got it: Eye-bags.”

I let my hand drop and shoot him a glare. “Excuse me?”

“Yes, yes.” He nods repeatedly, looking quite proud of himself. “You have very prominent eye bags.” He then sits back, letting out a relieved sigh.

Gesturing angrily with my hands, I indignantly sputter. “I do _not!”_

“Yes, you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.”

_“No—”_

“Nara-san,” Sakura interjects. “Don’t waste your time. I’ve had my nickname for three years. You can’t change his mind.”

I cross my arms over my chest and harrumph angrily as I turn to the wall, muttering about the trials of meeting new people.

After a few minutes, lighthearted conversation that seems to purposefully exclude Sai returns to the table, and it continues until dinner is—finally—over.

“Okay,” Naruto exclaims, looking at his teammates inquisitively. “I paid last time. Whose turn is it?”

Nervous that I might be made to pay, I remain silent. Until I can return to active duty as a ninja, I can’t make any money. As a result, I—shockingly—have no money, and as much as I detest freeloading, I don’t have much of a choice. I can always pay Naruto back for everything later anyhow.

“Not mine,” Sai chimes in.

Sakura whines in disappointment. _“Man,_ and I just got paid for my mission, too,” she grumbles, pouting.

However, before she can pull her money out of her pockets, Sasuke tosses some coins onto the table. “Don’t worry about it,” he grunts.

Sakura stops rooting around in her pockets to shoot him a look that I can’t quite discern. She slides the coins towards him, arguing “Sasuke-kun, please. It’s my turn.”

He shrugs. “I’ve been gone for a while. It’s fine.”

“No,” she fires back. “It’s not fine because it’s _my turn.”_

Uh-oh. What’s with the animosity between these two?

Naruto, suddenly nervous, shifts closer to me.

Seriously, what the fuck?

“Sakura—”

_“Sasuke-kun.”_

For a moment, he doesn’t respond. He merely looks at her as if willing her to acquiesce with only his stare. I roll my eyes. _Such an Uchiha._

Finally, he huffs, breaking eye-contact to scoop up his money from the table. “Forget it. Be stubborn.” At his words, Sakura appears to want to continue to argue, but she holds her tongue.

At long last, we stand outside of the restaurant. I stand awkwardly to the side as Naruto and his friends say their good-byes. Well, friends excluding Sasuke, that is. He stands next to me with angry, rigid posture. Glancing at him, I get a strange feeling of nostalgia, but am unable to place it, and I soon forget about it as Sakura walks up to wish him goodnight.

“Sasuke-kun,” she begins. “Have a nice night, and um, welcome back.” She gives him a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes and leans forward for a warm, albeit one-sided hug. I notice a faint, wistful look on his face as he watches her go before I turn away to go home myself with Naruto.

Hm. Interesting.


	6. Kaori

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read, comment & enjoy!

I sit in Kurenai’s kitchen, sipping a freshly made cup of tea and waiting for her to make it back from wherever she is this morning. Looking around, I notice a few changes to the room. The tan walls are the same with their cracks and Mirai’s crayon scribblings. The tiled floor shines after the cleaning Mirai and I—mostly me, in all fairness—gave it yesterday.

Another fifteen minutes pass before the door finally opens, a loud one-year-old careening past it with her mother close behind. Mirai gasps in delight upon seeing me and launches herself at my legs. “Nara-chan,” she squeaks. “Hi!”

Setting my tea down, I give a light laugh as I look down at her. “Hello, Mirai-chan. How are you today?” She toothlessly grins up at me in answer.

“Nara-san,” Kurenai suddenly snaps, lifting my teacup off the counter and pouring its contents down the sink. I groan in complaint, clearly not having finished. She stares back at me without remorse, asking, “What have I told you about breaking into my house?”

As always, I’m quick to respond. “Come now, Kurenai-san. We’ve had this talk before. How could I have broken in when nothing”—I take a moment to gesture around the room—“is broken?”

She turns away from me, unamused.

Ah, well. I don’t really care if she likes me anyway. Her and anyone else for that matter.

Well, maybe except for Mirai. She’s kind of cute.

* * *

Around 3 o’clock, I’m sitting on the floor of the living room, trying to convince Mirai that I have in fact stolen her nose.

“No, no,” she repeats, giggling and pressing her hands to her nose in order to prove that I’m lying.

“Uh-uh,” I respond, shaking my head. Wiggling my thumb between my fingers, I say, “See? It’s right here.” She shakes her head, incoherently shrieking to convey her disbelief.

For several minutes, I continue to go back and forth with the young girl that I had only recently—and quite begrudgingly—started to get along with given my relationship with her grandfather. Sure, I’d eventually reasoned with myself, I’d hated and wanted to kill the guy, but that wasn’t her fault, so what should stop me from having fun with an adorable little kid?

Suddenly, Kurenai picks Mirai up and goes back to sit on the couch, signaling that she wants to have a little chat with me.

Great.

I raise my eyebrows expectantly, waiting for her to begin. She smiles, and an anxious feeling pools in my stomach. Uh-oh. What could this be about?

“So, Nara-san, how do you like it here in Konoha?” Without responding, I sit patiently, waiting for her to continue. Likely having expected this sort of reaction from me, she does. “I know that you’re eager to officially become a Konoha kunoichi.” I grimace at that, but say nothing in opposition.

My eyes narrow in skepticism. “What are you getting at?”

“Well, I have news for you.” She shifts Mirai from her right knee to her left. “And I think you’ll like it.”

My skepticism grows. “Go on.”

“The Hokage believes that your talents are being wasted wandering around the village and playing with a toddler, and has therefore decided to reduce our time together.”

I stand up to approach her, my brow scrunching up. “So, this isn’t going to last for another nine weeks? What is it now, four?”

She shakes her head. “That’s not what I meant. Your probation period hasn’t changed, but you no longer have to spend nine hours a day with the two of us. Only six.”

At this, Mirai yells, “No!” I, however, remain unmoved.

“Wait; how does that stop me from ‘wasting my talents,’” I ask, my fingers forming air quotes. “I’ll still have to wait the full three months to be instated as a ninja.”

She shrugs. “More time to train, I suppose.”

I look away from her, my lips pursing in thought. Surely, this isn’t a bad thing, right? I’d have more time to myself to do . . . well, to do whatever I want. Moreover, I wouldn’t feel as though I’m constantly looking in on someone else’s life, like I do with Kurenai. It seems like a win-win situation, but that’s what bothers me. My eyes drift back to Kurenai, locking onto hers.

“What’s the catch?”

She sighs. “You have to attend daily therapy sessions.”

 _And_ there it is.

Scoffing, I open my mouth to voice my indignation, but Kurenai raises her hand to stop me. “I know you don’t want to, but just take a moment to think about it. It would only be an hour out of your day, so you’d have another two left over. Not to mention, it’s mandatory.”

Harrumphing, I turn my head and grumble angrily. This is unbelievable. I shouldn’t have to go to a stranger and talk about my _feelings._ Shinobi don’t talk about our feelings. We keep it all bottled up and then we die, and that’s how it should be.

“Well, then I guess we’re done here, right? I mean, I’ve been here for six hours now,” I say, turning back to Kurenai and trying my best not to scowl.

A warm smile takes over her face, and I attempt not to see the pity it conveys. “Sure.” Huffing, I march to the door, ready to tear it open and stomp all the way to the training grounds, where I will promptly strike several trees with lightning. When my hand touches the knob, Kurenai pipes up again. “But you should probably go straight to the Rokudaime’s office. He wants to see you.”

Not even trying to cover up the scowl this time, I grumble, “Great,” tear the door open and stomp all the way to Hokage Tower.

* * *

Sitting in the large chair on the other side of the desk, Kakashi pushes two medium-sized boxes towards me. I look down at the closed boxes, my face expressionless. After several seconds, I leisurely point at the boxes, looking up at him to ask “What’re these?”

A bored stare meets my impassive one. “These boxes contain everything that you’ve missed in the last thirty-six years—things that concern you, anyhow.” He lays his hand on the box to my left. “This one has all of your personal belongings from way back when.” Pointing to the other box, he says, “This one is full of copies of legal documents that have your name on them.”

I puff out a breath, feeling slightly distressed. “Okay, um . . .” I try to think of something else to say. Preferably, something that makes coherent sense. Unfortunately, nothing comes to mind. “Okay,” I finish lamely.

Feeling fairly overwhelmed, I pick up the box on the right. The box is dark black and appears to be rather new. All of its edges are still sharp, and its sides and covers have no scratches. I set it on the floor next to me before going for the second box, which looks to be about twice my age. This box was most likely also black when it was new, but now it’s a pale gray. It’s covered in scratches, and even has a few dents. Holding it up, I ask, “Why is this box so beat up?”

Still portraying absolutely no interest, he replies, “That’s the box my father put all of your stuff in when you left.”

Immediately, I drop the box onto the floor. “Shit, for real?” I press my hands to my chest in shock and slide the box away from myself with my foot. And yeah, I know that it’s not the healthiest reaction to receiving a box full of mementos from your dead friend, but hey, I’m going to therapy starting tomorrow, so I guess I already know what the first topic of discussion is going to be.

Staring at the box, I wonder what’s in it. Probably all of the possessions I left behind when I’d had to suddenly leave Konoha to prevent Danzo from kidnapping my sister. My spare clothes, money, bingo book—

Holy shit, _money!_ I’ll have to check for that later.

Looking back up, I clear my throat in order to divert Kakashi’s attention away from my little outburst. I also try to ignore the strange look he’s giving me. “So, uh, if that’ll be all. . . .” However, I make no move to actually leave, as that would require picking up the box that Sakumo designated to me before he _fucking killed himself._

Wow. Will an hour a day be enough?

“Not quite, Uzumaki-sama. There’s actually something rather important.” I’m presented with an official-looking piece of paper and a pen.

Once again, I’m leisurely pointing at something on the Hokage’s desk. “What’s this?”

He takes a deep breath, as though to prepare himself.

Ah, here we go. I’m definitely not going to like this.

“As I’m sure you’ve come to realize, Uzumaki-sama, you are currently the eldest living member of your clan. It should come as no surprise to you that you would be given the responsibility of clan head.” He stops at that, no doubt waiting for me to take a look at the document in front of me, or—oh, I don’t know—just lose my fucking shit at the prospect of being the head of the fucking Uzumaki clan. Of course, I’m leaning towards the latter—it seems like the most natural option—but I decide against it, opting for the former instead.

I lean over the desk and quickly read through the contents of the document in front of me. Without much preamble or internal debate, I sign my name at the bottom.

When I leave the office a few minutes later, boxes stacked under my chin, the Uzumaki clan’s new home is Konohagakure and its new head—for better or worse­—is me.

* * *

_My aunt threw the room to my door open, looking flustered. “Nara-chan, get up!”_

_At her anxious tone, a surge of adrenaline ripped through my body, and I launched myself off of my bed. I’d rushed over to her, worried. “Umeko-obaa-san, what’s wrong?”_

_Rather than answering me, she started stripping me of my ninja gear, which I had neglected taking off when I’d gotten home. Left in only my underwear after a few seconds, I sputtered in confusion, unable to form a question when she suddenly threw one of my dresses at me, hitting me in the face._

_“Quick, put that on! I’ll find you some nice shoes. Where do you keep them, your closet?” She didn’t wait for my response, her head already in my closet, looking for shoes that I wasn’t sure she’d ever find._

_After having slipped my dress over my head, I walked over to her and pulled on her arm to catch her attention. “Umeko-obaa-san, what is it? What’s going on? Why am I wearing a dress? Why do I need shoes?”_

_She didn’t respond until she’d found my shoes and was already slipping them onto my feet. “Yasahiro-sama has requested your immediate presence. It’s about your betrothal to his grandson.”_

_Instantaneously, an image of Kaori, my betrothed, flashed through my mind, and I couldn’t stop the blush that bloomed across my face. My hands pressed to my cheeks, cold against my hot flesh._

_“What is it? Is something wrong?”_

_My aunt grunted at me, exasperated. “I don’t know, but you can’t be late. Now go!”_

_At her words, I lost no time in making my way to the clan’s meeting hall, stopping for a moment outside of the doors to compose myself. I took out my braid, which was messy and frayed from training earlier that day with my teammates, Misaki and Souichirou, and quickly combed through my hair with my fingers, trying to make myself look presentable. After feeling satisfied with my appearance while not having looked at myself, I’d tugged the doors open and strode confidently into the hall._

_However, upon noticing the betrothal ceremony going on before me, I stopped dead in my tracks._

_Was that Aneko up there with Kaori? Why were they standing together like that, as Kaori and I had just two years ago at our betrothal ceremony? It almost looked like Aneko and Kaori were getting betrothed, but that couldn’t be right because Kaori was already betrothed to me._

_Right?_

_“Nara-san,” Yasahiro called out. “Come forward.” I approached the old man, worry taking root in the back of my mind. He looked down at me with his light blue eyes, his wrinkles looking more pronounced than usual with the frown that was dominating his face. He looked out into the crowd of our relatives then, and stated, “Now that all involved parties have arrived, we may commence with the betrothal ceremony.”_

_Um, what?_

_The truth was slowly dawning on me, but I didn’t want to accept it. I didn’t want to accept that cute, sensitive Kaori with his soft green eyes was going to be betrothed to another girl. I didn’t want to accept that mean, whiny Aneko with her light red hair was going to be betrothed to_ my _Kaori._

_But there was nothing I could do, so I just stood there. I stood there as the ceremony began. I stood there as Yasahiro asked me if I consented to the end of my betrothal. I stood there as Aneko and Kaori were betrothed. I even stood there as Yasahiro spoke to me after the ceremony had ended. He explained that I couldn’t be Kaori’s wife because I had grown too powerful as a kunoichi, and he didn’t want people to believe that the future head of the clan was weaker than his own wife._

_At first, it made me furious—really—that I had to choose being a ninja over being a wife. However, after a moment’s consideration, I’d realized that I wouldn’t have it any other way. If being the wife of the head of the clan meant that I had to be weak and neglect my duties as a ninja, then I didn’t want to be Kaori’s wife. It was fine. I would get over my crush. And I would become the most powerful kunoichi that Yasahiro and Kaori would ever see._

Staring up at the ceiling of Naruto’s living room, I give a soft, nostalgic laugh at the memory. Sure enough, I had gotten over my crush. I hardly ever thought about Kaori after that summer when I was ten-years-old. In fact, a year later, I was already foolishly head-over-heels in love with Jiraiya.

I laughed a little louder at that thought, especially with the newfound information about Jiraiya’s _Icha Icha_ series. I mean, really, Jiraiya had really taken the pervert thing to a whole new level.

Overall, I don’t really mind the way that my clan had rebuffed me all those years ago. Sure, it’d stung, but look at me now. I’ve grown into an insanely strong kunoichi, and I certainly don’t regret it. I bet that bastard Yasahiro never thought that I’d ever end up head of our clan, what with me being so distantly related to him.

It’s kind of funny how life turns out. If only Kushina were here to share it with me.


	7. Fingering the Red-Hot Pulse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read, comment & enjoy!
> 
> warning: lime in this chapter

The neckline of Tsunade’s shirt hangs low on my chest, reaching just above my belly button and exposing my breasts. Sighing, I shrug it off and unroll some gauze to bind my chest. A few minutes later, I return to Tsunade’s living room, clad in her spare mourning garments. She’s waiting for me by the door, her arms crossed.

“Honestly, Tsunade,” I say, gesturing to my torso. “Don’t you have any tops that _don’t_ show off your cleavage?” I’d wound more than enough gauze around myself in an attempt at modesty, effectively covering myself despite the gaping black shirt that also threatened to slip from my shoulders.

She gives me a small smirk. “You’re just upset ‘cause you’re flat.”

My nose in the air, I strut past her, pick up the bucket of soapy water and sponge that I’d left by the door, and use Merge no jutsu to walk through the door. “At least mine are still perky,” I taunt before I’m out of earshot.

When she arrives on the other side of the doorway, she surprises me by not punching my lights out for my comment, but that’s probably just due to the seriousness of what we’re about to do.

We walk in companionable silence for a short while. It’s the early morning, the sun just having risen, so there’s no one else around save for the shopkeepers opening their doors for the day.

As we reach our destination, I begin to fidget, causing my step to quicken and the water in the bucket to slosh around. Tsunade takes notice. “Nara,” she starts, stopping in the middle of the street. “We don’t have to do this if you’re not ready.”

“No, no, I’m ready. Don’t worry about it,” I assure her, waving my hand to stave off her suspicions. “It was my idea, right?” After another moment of her staring at me with her eyes narrowed as she decides whether or not I’m lying, she shrugs, feigning indifference before going on ahead. I follow hesitantly because in an ironic bit of truth, I was lying.

Finally, we arrive at the spot I’ve been dreading setting my sights on.

Jiraiya’s grave marker.

I look down at it warily, unsure of how I should proceed. I’ve come here to pay my respects, but it feels so wrong. Jiraiya and I’d had such a complicated history. He’d been my mentor, my friend and my first love. Moreover, setting aside the little bit where he’d betrayed me, I certainly had mostly fond memories of him, but how did he think of me after I’d gone? After all, the last time we’d seen each other, I’d tried to kill him in cold blood.

Sighing, I push away my doubts. This isn’t the time to ponder over everything that’d gone wrong in my relationship with Jiraiya—because there was _a lot._ Rather, I need to say good-bye to my old friend, if just for the sake of maintaining my sanity as he’s been on my mind far too much lately, and I don’t care to wonder why.

The grave marker, a small, gray post in the ground, is terribly filthy. It’s likely that no one has cleaned it in a while. Perhaps even since it’d been put here. I kneel in front of it, and use the things I’d brought to clean it up.

After the last speck of dirt has been scrubbed away, I place my cleaning supplies to the side and slowly get to my feet. My hands clench in the shirt I’m wearing, stretching the fabric. I fight to keep my breathing under control to prevent myself from crying. The last thing I need is to get more emotional.

“Jiraiya,” I blurt out suddenly. My tone is almost angry, as if I’m accusing him of shouldering me with an obligation to say good-bye to him. After a deep breath, I continue with a much calmer inflection. “I, um, I came to see you ‘cause, uh . . .” I trail off, unsure of what to say. For some reason, I turn to Tsunade for reassurance, and she nods in encouragement.

I take another deep breath.

Okay. I can do this.

Looking back to the grave marker, I start again. “I—Hi. Um, well, hi, Jiraiya. Long time, no see.” I shift my feet nervously. “Well, um, I guess it’s still ‘no see,’ huh? Since they, uh, never recovered your body.” I don’t look, but I’m sure I see Tsunade shake her head out of the corner of my eye. “Anyway, um, I just wanted to stop by and say hey.”

A beat passes.

“No, that’s stupid. Lemme start over,” I amend, shaking my head, as well. “I wanted to thank you for taking care of Kushina after the incident that I have—with _much_ deliberation—chosen to forgive you for, and I, uh, wanted to say that I’m sorry that you died. It was my fault.”

Tsunade cuts in at that. “Nara—”

“No, Tsunade, it’s true, and I’m sorry.”

I’ve gone over it in my head a million times, and there’s no going around it. If I hadn’t tried to fight Kushina becoming the Kyuubi’s Jinchuuriki and simply gone with her to Konoha, I would have been there when Naruto was born and I could’ve killed Uchiha Obito before he had the chance to break the Kyuubi’s seal. If he was dead, he never could’ve turned the Akatsuki into a terrorist group and started the Fourth Shinobi World War. Jiraiya and so many others never would have died.

My guilt causes my stomach to twist painfully.

Kushina never would’ve died.

Everything that happened was my fault.

I don’t notice that I’m shaking until Tsunade puts her hands on my shoulders, drawing me away from my depressing ponderings. She smiles kindly at me, and my stomach twists further from guilt. “That’s enough for today, yeah?”

She makes to walk away, an arm around my shoulders to pull me along with her. I pick up the bucket I’d brought. Almost as an afterthought, I run my fingers along the top of the grave marker, whispering “Good-bye, Jiraiya.”

* * *

“You’re doing it.”

“No,” I argue.

“Yes,” Tsunade insists, her eyebrows drawing together in anger at my refusal of her demands.

Sick of repeating myself, I grind out, “No.”

We’re standing on Kurenai’s doorstep, arguing. Tsunade has refused to let me go until I acquiesce, so we’ve been standing out here for nearly ten minutes. It’s around nine o’clock now. I’ve changed back into my ninja gear, which happens to also be my one and only wardrobe option. I’d ditched my bucket and sponge earlier, but I have been thus far unsuccessful at ditching Tsunade.

“Nara, listen to me. You have made no attempt to get along with any of the new people that you’ve met, including Naruto.” I open my mouth to retort at that, taking serious issue with the fact that she was overlooking all those times I’d begrudgingly gone to Ichiraku with him, but she quickly silences me. “Don’t interrupt me! You need to start making friends, and yes, I _know_ you don’t want to, but you are becoming a self-destructive hermit, and I _will not stand for it.”_ Her voice becomes shrill at the end of her rant, shaking slightly.

Ah, crap. I’ve actually pissed her off. Now, I have _no choice_ but to do what she says.

Sighing, I finally give in. _“Fine,_ but I reserve the right to leave if I become uncomfortable.”

Victorious, she gives a triumphant smile and cockily places her hands on her hips. “Yeah, yeah, just don’t be late.” She turns at that, sauntering away. Grumbling, I angrily whip myself in the opposite direction, going through Kurenai’s door for my mandatory six hours with her before I have to sit through the most potentially awkward evening of my life with Haruno Sakura and Yamanaka Ino.

* * *

Sakura and Ino talk amongst themselves while I sit quietly across from them, sipping my tea. Beyond greeting them, I haven’t said a word all night, and I’m very content with that. I have no intention of being close with Naruto’s friends, no matter what Tsunade says. Sure, she threatened to rip out all my hair if I don’t make a good impression, but I’m not afraid of her.

No, that’s a lie. I wouldn’t be here if I weren’t.

Unfortunately for me, Sakura and Ino seem pretty nice, so I’m finding it fairly difficult to find things to hate about them. At first, I thought they might’ve been the kind of shallow girls that only talk about boys, but since I sat down, they’ve discussed nothing but medical ninjutsu and recent missions, so _that’s_ off the table.

Sakura’s voice suddenly pulls me away from my thoughts. “What’re you looking at?” Startled, I look up from my hands, ready to defend myself until I realize that she’s talking to Ino.

Ino’s eyes snap back to look at her friend. “Nothing,” she mumbles. “I just thought I saw someone.”

Moving to where Ino had been staring, Sakura’s eyes survey the other side of the café until they find something that causes them to shine with glee. She smirks. “Ah, I guess that guy kinda looks like Sai from behind, huh?”

At her words, Ino’s face turns red from embarrassment while I whip my head around to see who she’s referring to. I spot a slim, tall guy with dark, short hair fidgeting awkwardly at the maître d’s stand. If I didn’t know that Sai always wears that weird crop top, I’d mistake this guy for him, too.

Surprising all three of us, I ask, “You like Sai?”

Ino’s face reddens further at my question, and she hides it behind her hands, groaning. Sakura snickers, much to Ino’s dismay as the blonde proceeds to glare up at her from her slouched position. After roughly a minute, she regains some of her composure. “No, I don’t,” she grinds out, obviously lying.

Skeptical, I decide to bait her into admitting to truth. Shrugging, I say, “Well, that’s good. He seems like a freak.”

As predicted, her reaction doesn’t disappoint. She slams her palms onto the table angrily, shrieking, “He is _not_ a freak!”

“Ha-ha,” I exclaim, sticking my index finger in her face. “So you _do_ like him!” Her face flushes again, and she turns to the side with her arms crossed to avoid Sakura’s loudening laughter. I go back to drinking tea, sure that I’m sporting a triumphant smile. Eventually, Sakura’s laughter dies down, Ino stops blushing, and I feel comfortable enough to say, “He is kind of a freak, though.”

Both girls glare at me in response.

Yikes. Maybe it’s not such a good idea to insult a guy in front of his teammate and a girl that has a crush on him.

Unbidden, a spark of nervousness runs up my neck, almost as if I’m worried that they won’t like me. Without really thinking, I scramble to explain myself. “Well, I mean, not a _freak,_ but, like, his mannerisms are, you know, weird,” I pause, coughing. “-ish.”

They continue to glare.

 _Agh,_ fuck.

I lean over the table, lamenting, “Well, come on, the nicknames are annoying, right?”

Finally, Sakura groans and rolls her eyes in agreement with me. I feel myself relax, no longer worried about her hating me.

Ino, on the other hand, crosses her arms again and sticks her nose in the air. “I, for one, don’t mind the nicknames. I think they’re endearing.”

Sakura snorts. “Of course, _you_ would. You’re the only one with a good one, _Gorgeous.”_

My eyebrows shoot up in shock, and I almost spit out my tea. “Your nickname is ‘Gorgeous,’” I ask, incredulous. “What the crud is that? Mine is ‘Eye-bags!’”

Following my outburst, Ino attempts to keep her displeased frown in place, but it slowly turns into a smug smirk that she unsuccessfully tries to hide from Sakura.

Snorting again, Sakura says, “Oh, Pig, you’re such the smitten kitten,” as she raises her teacup to her lips.

“Whatever, Forehead,” she shoots back. “At least, I haven’t been consumed by unrequited love for the past decade.”

“Dammit, Ino,” Sakura snaps. Her teacup shatters as she slams it back onto the table, though neither kunoichi seems to take notice. “Will you just let that go?”

“Will _you?”_

Trying not to interfere with the suddenly tense conversation, I discreetly move a napkin across the table to clean up the mess from Sakura’s destroyed teacup. I quickly mop up the tea before picking up the shattered porcelain piece by piece as they continue to argue.

“All I’m saying is maybe—just maybe—you could pursue other options.”

“Maybe I don’t _want_ to pursue other options.”

“But Sakura, listen—”

Angrily, Sakura stands and slams her palms onto the table, causing the little pile of shattered teacup that I’d made to spill onto the floor. “No, Ino, _you_ listen. I know you don’t get it, but I’m still in love with him, and that’s never going to change!” Following her outburst, Sakura storms away from the table and into the ladies’ room amidst the terrified stares of other customers. Ino lets her head drop into her hands in frustration.

After I finish cleaning up the teacup for the second time, I wait patiently for Ino’s attention with my hands intertwined under my chin and my elbows leaning on the table.

“What,” she growls without looking up.

“Well, I just have a little question,” I venture, an innocent lilt to my voice. A moment passes before she lifts her head to look at me, which I take as a signal to continue. “What’s with the lie?”

Her bored expression unchanging, she replies, “What lie?”

Smiling, I continue to feign innocence. “You know, about it being unrequited love.”

She cocks an eyebrow at my statement and sits up with her back straight and arms crossed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, come on.” I regress, dropping the act. “You know what I’m talking about. The scary Uchiha boy is obviously in love with her.”

Unflinching, she slowly repeats herself. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Man, she really doesn’t wanna crack on this. However, the issue has piqued my interest, so I’m not gonna let it go.

Digressing, I say, “Okay, well, say that—hypothetically—you do know what I’m talking about. What’s the problem?”

A beat passes, neither of us moving a muscle.

Ino breaks first, and I have to stop myself from laughing in victory. Sighing, she uncrosses her arms and folds them on the table in front of her, leaning forward. “Alright, Nara-san, for whatever reason, I have a feeling that you may actually become significant in our lives, so I’ll be frank with you.” Excited, I lean forward to hear her explanation. She takes a quick breath and says, “Three years ago, Sasuke tried to kill Sakura.”

It takes me a few seconds to process her words. When I do, a burst of heartache that I thought I’d left far in the past hits me right in the chest, and for a moment, I don’t breathe. My eyes gloss over as I listen to the rest of her story, finding it very similar to the traumatic experience that I had with my own teammates.

Oh, shit, no. I can’t start thinking about that. Think happy thoughts. Yes, happy thoughts, like when Kushina and I would—

Oh, no, don’t think about Kushina either.

Agh, _fuck._

Ino’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “Nara-san?”

My eyes snap to hers from where they’d drifted. “Yeah?”

“Have you—Were you listening,” she asks, narrowing her eyes at me accusingly.

I nod, taking the time to actually process what she’s told me. “Yeah, yeah, Sakura trying to trick him, crazy lightning jutsu, Naruto and Kakashi showing up in the nick of time,” I respond after a moment, rambling off the main points of the story. “So, um, why does everyone still hang out with him if he’s so awful?”

She leans back and blows out a long breath, her bangs picking up. “It’s just his teammates, really.” As an afterthought, she adds, “And Sai only does when Naruto and Sakura force him to.”

Nodding, I say, “I see.” I open my mouth to ask another question, but the scratching of Sakura’s chair across the floor steals my—and Ino’s—attention.

The rims of her eyelids are red, and her eyes are a little glassy. “What are you guys talking about,” she asks with an accusing tone.

“Oh, nothing,” I lie. Her eyes narrow as she plops her into her chair to convey her disbelief. An awkward silence falls over the table, and Ino coughs uncomfortably. Slowly, an idea to relieve the tension crawls into my head, and I wrestle with myself over whether or not to use it. It seems like a good idea, but it’d be totally embarrassing.

Hm, should I?

Looking up, I see Ino and Sakura openly glaring at each other.

Ugh, I can’t believe I’m about to do this.

“So, um, I actually have a funny story about boys, too,” I venture, catching the other girls’ attention. When their eyes fall on me, a tingle of unease runs up my spine.

 _Man,_ this is going to be embarrassing.

“Oh, really,” Sakura asks, a cold edge to her voice. “Even funnier than the story I’m sure Ino just told you?” Nervously, Ino moves her chair away from her friend.

Unfazed, I bluntly reply, “Yeah.”

Sighing, she shifts—probably crossing her legs—to make herself more comfortable before giving me her attention. Ino does the same from the far side of the table.

“Ah, well, a bunch of years ago, I, uh, I actually had an unrequited love, too.” At my concession, some of Sakura’s anger dissipates, and Ino scoots her chair back to its original spot before leaning forward with excitement.

“For who,” the blonde asks exuberantly.

“Whom,” Sakura distractedly corrects out of the corner of her mouth, earning her a quick, half-hearted glare from Ino.

Anxiously, I clear my throat. “Um, you, uh—Have you ever heard—met—Do you know Jiraiya, the Sannin?”

Slowly, both of the girls’ eyes widen to the size of saucers. In unison, they shout, “What?”

“Yeah,” I continue, laughing nervously. “It, uh, didn’t really go so well either.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Ino interjects, cutting me off. “You need to backtrack. How the _hell_ did you fall for the Pervy Sage?”

Shrugging, I try to explain. “Well, we met during the war, and he was really nice and funny and a lot stronger than me at the time, and, um . . .” I trail off as I catch looks of disgust and incredulity from my companions. “What?”

Both Ino and Sakura’s eyes are crinkling from some mixture of amusement and shock. Ino lets out an unbelieving laugh. “But . . . you seem so normal.”

At that, I laugh outright. “Me, normal?” I clutch my right side with my left hand as my incessant giggles turn hysterical, and place my other hand on the table to prevent myself from falling out of my chair. After a while, my laughter dies down, and I begin to catch my breath. Waving my hands in front of me, I lament, “I’m sorry. You guys don’t know me very well, but if Tsunade were here, she’d be on the floor right now.”

* * *

“So, how did the rest of the evening go,” Aiko, my therapist, probes.

Feigning indifference, I shrug. “Fine, I suppose.”

She gives me a knowing smile. “It went well, then?”

Tired of indirectly admitting that Tsunade had been right and making friends with Sakura and Ino had been a good idea, I sigh and roll my eyes. “Can we change the subject, please?”

“Very well,” she acquiesces, holding her hands up. “Let’s discuss your inability to open the boxes that the Rokudaime gave you.”

 _Ugh,_ no! I don’t wanna talk about that!

Frowning, I shrug once more. “What about it?”

“Well, you’ve had them for what? A week?” When I don’t dignify her question with a response, she continues, “Have you even touched them?”

“Yes,” I reply, sneering.

She raises an eyebrow. “Really?”

I cast my head to the side and pretend to find something in the view from the window very interesting, mumbling, “No.”

My attention is drawn back to Aiko when she gives a loud sigh. She’s checking her watch and jotting down notes in that stupid little notebook that I definitely _don’t_ want to read. “Alright, here’s what we’re going to do. You,” she starts, pointing at me with her pen, “are going to bring the older box—the one that Hatake Sakumo made up fo—” I lean forward in my seat to object. If I have to open one of the boxes, I’d much rather it be the one that only had boring legal documents in it.

“Whoa, there,” Aiko cuts me off before I can get a word out. “Don’t interrupt me.” She continues after I’ve relaxed with my back to the back of my chair again. “You’ll bring that box everyday starting tomorrow, and day by day, item by item, we’ll go through it. How does that sound,” she asks, a warm smile lighting up her middle-aged features.

“It sounds like the worst idea I’ve ever heard,” I snark.

Without her smile faltering, she snaps her notebook shut and says, “Lovely.” When she gestures at the door, silently signaling that I’m free to go for the day, I lose no time in getting the hell out of here.

* * *

The two boxes sit on the coffee table as I pace back and forth next to them. Naruto is out for the rest of the evening—he’s taking his girlfriend out for a date at Ichiraku for what must be the gazillionth time—so I don’t have to worry about him walking in on my mental breakdown of the day.

After another few minutes of agitated pacing, I force myself to stop by the corner of the older box. Restlessly fidgeting at the thought of opening the box, I toy with the idea for yet another few minutes.

It’ll be fine, right? I mean, it’s not like the world is gonna end if I open this box. I already pretty much know what’s in it, right?

Right?

Suddenly, I have the urge to stomp my foot, and I do so, shaking the ground with the force of the physical manifestation of my anger. “Screw it,” I shout. “I am going to open this _stupid_ box _by myself_ because I am an adult and I don’t _need_ some old woman to help me!” Following my spirited proclamation, I tear the lid off the box and fling it onto the couch behind me. With an air of false calmness, I immediately stoop down and pick up the first thing that catches my eye—a small navy blue pouch.

“Ah! My purse,” I exclaim, ripping the drawstring open. I turn the pouch over, and three-hundred-forty-thousand ryō—just as I’d recalled—in coins drop into my open palm. In my excitement at the thought of finally being able to pay for things myself again, I leap upwards, pumping my fist into the air gleefully.

Extremely relieved to have not been depressed by the first item I picked out of the box, I continue to sort through my belongings, coming across old kunais and shiruken, my bingo book, gauze, my house keys, some weird red book that Jiraiya wrote, some notes I’d jotted down about—

Wait; a book that Jiraiya had written? I don’t think he had published anything other than _The Tale of the Utterly Gutsy Shinobi_ by the time I’d been locked away, so how could I have owned this?

I plop onto the couch to further inspect the book. Turning it over to its cover, I read its title: _Fingering the Red-Hot Pulse._

Oh, my goodness. Is this one of his _Icha Icha_ novels? I _definitely_ never bought this. Did Sakumo leave it in this box by accident?

Curious, I flip through a few of the pages. As I read through the first chapter, a chilling realization slowly dawns on me. The girl in this book . . . kinda looks like me. A _lot_ like me. And the events taking place are a little _too_ familiar for my liking.

Enraged, I shoot to my feet, and with the book tucked under my arm, I charge through the wall of the apartment and land on the street outside, startling a few passersby. However, not be deterred, I quickly set out on my way to Tsunade’s house for some answers.

* * *

_Three left._

_This mission was already taking longer than we’d hoped, so of course, just outside of Konohagakure, these stupid fucking rogue nin just had to ambush us._

_Jiraiya had been sent to secure a rare scroll from Getsugakure, and Uzushio had lent my services to the Hokage for the mission, as well. It had taken us weeks to get to Getsugakure, another week to retrieve the scroll from a band of enemy ninja, and two more weeks to get to our current location, and now we were being further delayed by these sub-par morons._

_The ex-cloud nin had numbered at fourteen when they’d ambushed Jiraiya and I in a grove of oak trees, and now there were five of them left—three for me and two for Jiraiya, the lazy bastard._

_Focusing on the three enemy nin circling me, I tried to discern if any of them had any injuries—old or new—that I could take advantage of. When I noticed that the smallest one had a trick knee, I sprung forward with a kunai and split his leg open down the middle of his kneecap before slitting his neck once he’d begun to fall._

_Two left._

_Before I could completely turn my attention back to the remaining rogue nin, one of them tried to grab me from the back of my shirt and pull me down, but I quickly slipped from her grasp. Quickly, I’d spun around and kicked her in the neck. It snapped, and she too fell to the ground._

_One left._

_Certainly defying my expectations, the last ninja merely stared at me with his mouth slightly ajar. Without taking the time to ponder as to why he would do such a foolish thing, I lunged forward and shoved a kunai through his coronary artery._

_From behind me, I heard Jiraiya take down the last of his opponents, as well. Without conferring with one another, we deserted the area, not wanting to be stumbled upon after dispatching so many enemy ninja. We ran for a few minutes before we stopped to assess ourselves after the struggle with the ex-cloud nin. Promptly, Jiraiya drew my attention by making a strange squeaking sound. I looked up to see his red face._

_Faced with him staring at me gawking, I asked, “What?”_

_Suddenly, blood dropped from his left nostril, and he held his hand up to stop the flow. Distractedly, he gestured towards me in explanation._

_Confused, I looked down to find that during the fight, my shirt had been tugged down and my two smaller-than-average breasts were now bared not only to the world, but to the man I was in love with. Immediately, I shrieked, hurrying to cover myself. I turned away after pulling my shirt back up and placed my hands on my cheeks, trying to cool down my feverish flesh._

_Shit, shit. What was I supposed to say? Was I supposed to play it cool?_

_Brashly and without a plan of action, I turned around, not having expected for Jiraiya to be right behind me. “Jiraiya, what are yo—”_

_He cut me off with a hot, searing kiss._

_Oh, my gosh. Oh. My. Gosh! Jiraiya was kissing me! Oh, my gosh! Oh, my—_

_The kiss intensified, and I lost all rational thought. He pushed me up against a tree, and I hastily moved to wrap my legs around his pelvis. It briefly occurred to me that allowing this course of events to take place may not have been the best of ideas, but at that point, I couldn’t say I cared. I’d been in love with Jiraiya for_ six years _and damn it, I wasn’t about to let this opportunity slip through my fingers._

_He tugged at my hair, pulling my head back and baring my neck to him. In the next moment, his lips were at the pulse point just below my jaw, sucking. I let out a shaky breath as I tugged at his white hair in return._

_Slowly, we stripped each other’s upper bodies of our garments. At first, I was nervous about him seeing the seals on my arms, but after a moment’s consideration, I realized that I trusted Jiraiya enough not to freak out and kill him when he inevitably touched the exposed seals._

_Once my torso was completely bare and I was running my hands down the skin of his chest, he drew back to gaze down at me, and I resisted the urge to cover myself._

_“You’re gorgeous,” he breathed out before dipping back down to take the peak of my left breast into his mouth, not giving me the opportunity to return the compliment. My right hand flew up to my mouth to muffle the cry of shock that fell from my lips, and I squeezed my eyes shut in response to the blissful sensations radiating from my core when he began to suck._

_It occurred to me moments later that I’d begun to make soft, keening sounds of want in response to his ministrations. Embarrassed, I placed my palms on either side of his head and pulled his face up to my own to kiss him again. My efforts were in vain, though, as his fingers, pinching, pulling and twisting, quickly replaced his lips on my chest, and my content noises returned._

_One of his hands traced down my stomach until it ran into the waistband of my pants. Before I could even think to accede or deny him permission, he slipped his hand under the elastic of my vestments and ran his thumb along the slit of my womanhood. I grunted out a cry, and he took that as approbation to continue, pushing an entire digit through my opening._

_The next cry I gave derived more from pain than pleasure, but he comfortingly shushed my protests and moved his fingers slowly to accommodate my inexperience._

_After a few seconds, the pain had completely disappeared, he’d added another finger, his mouth had gone back to my chest, and I was writhing and keening and_ holy shit _and—_

_“Jiraiya,” I breathed out, kissing the top of his head. “I love you.”_

_Then all of a sudden, he stopped, pulled away from me, stood up and turned away._

_What?_

_“Hey, um, what’s wrong,” I asked, a chill already settling in my bones._

_“Nara,” he said, turning around to face me. When met once again with the state of my undress, he gestured for me to cover myself, and bewildered, I did so. “Nara,” he started again, running a hand down his face. “I, um, I’m so sorry. We—I shouldn’t have done this—that.”_

_I made my way to my feet, using the tree to support myself given that my legs were a bit shaky—whether from the recent events or from the news I was almost certainly about to hear._

_“You don’t feel the same way, so this was a mistake,” I stated dully, beating him to the punch._

_Nimbly, he nodded, an apologetic grimace marring his features._

_Fuck. I’d let myself get too caught up in the moment. Fuck. Damnit. Fucking shit. Motherfucking son of a shitting fuck!_

_“Damn it, Jiraiya,” I shouted before pouncing at him and punching him square in the face, causing him to fly backward a couple dozen feet, knock into a tree and fall to the ground. “You fucking_ asshole!”

 _Deftly, he got back up, holding his hands up in surrender. “Nara, I’m so,_ so _sorry!”_

_“Yeah, you better fucking be,” I shouted back, not really wanting to talk this out or deal with the fact that my heart felt like it was being crushed. “Just shut the fuck up, and let’s get back to Konoha so this fucking mission can be over.”_

_I made to start running, but he caught my arm. Damn him._

_“Nara, wait—”_

_“No,” I practically screamed, cutting him off. “I don’t want to talk about this, okay?” My voice was shaky, and I could hear the vulnerability in it, so I knew he could, too. I turned back to look at him saw an expression torn by pity and guilt, and a wave of anger and self-loathing ran through me. I tore my arm from his grasp, and a tired request fell from my lips, “Just no, okay?”_

_He sighed. “Okay.”_

* * *

I walk straight through Tsunade’s front door, much to her chagrin.

“Nara!” She stands from her couch where she’d been talking to her pupils, Sakura and Shizune. “How many times have I told you—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” I reply, cutting her off. Without waiting to be invited to come further into the house, I march right over to her, raise my arm above my head, and then drop _Fingering the Red-Hot Pulse_ onto her coffee table. It hits the wood with a slapping sound. “What the _fuck_ is this?” I place a hand on my hip, raising an eyebrow in question.

She merely stares at the book, her palms on her cheeks, seemingly dumbfounded by its existence. “Oh, my gosh.”

“Tsunade, what the fuck is this,” I repeat, my temper rising.

Sakura stands from her seat on the couch, her hair drooping in front of her forehead to cover the seal there. “Tsunade-shishou, what’s wrong,” she asks, looking from the book to her mentor in sheer curiosity. Tsunade holds up a hand to silence her, knowing I may just snap and take everything out on her if she says something I don’t like.

Finally, she meets my eyes. “I told him not to publish it.”

Incredulous, I snort in response, placing my other hand at my hip to complete my look of anger. “Oh, you did, did you,” I ask, sarcastic. “How did that go?”

“Not well, obviously,” she mumbles humorlessly.

“Oh, really?”

Tsunade places a hand on my left shoulder, which I glare at until she removes it a moment later. “Um, most of it’s fictitious, if that makes you feel any—”

“It does _not_ make me feel better,” I roar. Picking up the red book again, I clutch it to my chest, pulling at either side of it roughly and threatening to rip it apart. “He made a _book,_ a fucking smut fic, out of one of the most _humiliating_ and painful experiences of my _entire_ life, which he fucking caused!”

A hush falls over the room at my statement. All one can hear is my heavy, distressed breathing.

Warily, Sakura extends her hand towards me. “Can I, um, can I read it?”

“No.” My voice rings with hollow shock.

Laughing, she tries to pry it from me. “C’mon, I wanna see it.”

“No!”

Soon enough, the two of us are wrestling on the floor for it. I’ve managed to keep it from her grasp with a foot on her chest and a hand pressing on her face, but she pulls my hair back, taking my head with it, and pain races across my scalp. I shriek, dropping the book, and she scrambles to pick it up. In the next moment, she’s across the room from me, skimming through the beginning.

“Damn you,” I curse, panting.

I get back up and walk over to the couch before collapsing onto it. Throwing an arm over my eyes, I try to calm myself down.

Breath in.

Breath out.

This is not so bad.

Breath in.

Breath out.

It could be worse.

Breath in.

Breath out.

I mean, Jiraiya could still be alive.

Breath in.

Breath out.

Of course, if he were, I’d kill him myself.

Breath in.

Brea—

Sakura gasps loudly from her place on the other side of the room, drawing my attention. We make eye contact just as she exclaims, “You let him eat you out? That’s _so_ gross!”

Too furious to even get angry again, I let the arm that I’d had over my face hang off the couch as I respond. “No, I didn’t, but why is it gross?”

Cringing while continuing to smile, she replies, “Okay, I know you were in love with him, but he was gross.”

“She’s right,” Tsunade interjects. I give her a disinterested glance.

Sighing, I curl into the back of the couch. The fuzzy material of the sofa tickles my nose. My voice is muffled by the cushions. “It’s only accurate up to page twelve.”

Over the next few minutes, I hear pages turning, loud shrieks, whispers and my own shame, all of them drowning me in a spiral of never-ending misery.

Okay, maybe not the last one, but I’m seriously upset.

I doze off after a while, but Tsunade nudges me awake to ask if I’m spending the night.

Hm, should I go back and face my nephew?

Wait a second; didn’t Naruto tell me he’s read everything Jiraiya’s ever wrote?

My face heats up in embarrassment for the billionth time tonight, and I bury it in one of the cushions.

_Ugh._

I can never face him again.


	8. Necropolis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read, comment & enjoy!

These past two weeks have been very stressful.

I’d had to explain the entire ordeal with Jiraiya to Sakura _and_ Ino—guess who told her—which was not fun at all. I’d gone back to Jiraiya’s grave marker two times—once to yell at him, twice to forgive him _yet again_ for all his crap. It’s difficult to stay mad at dead people.

I even had to give up avoiding Naruto after three days because he became concerned, managed to wake up before me—I’ve finally started getting some sleep, but only for a few hours a night—one day, and demanded to know why I’d been so distant. I was surprised that he’d noticed at all as I hadn’t been too familiar with him before the whole _Icha-Icha-_ discovery incident had taken place, but of course, he’s a shinobi, so it’s to be expected. Naturally, I’d been withholding about as to why I was so upset, so it took forever to get him to calm down about the issue. It was only after I promised to be around more that he finally acquiesced.

Hence, here I am now, sitting on the sofa in his apartment in the middle of the day. And where is he? Training with his emo friend.

What a waste of my efforts.

Ironically, though Naruto is out, his girlfriend is here. She was in the shower when I’d arrived from Kurenai’s, and she’d quickly slipped into the bedroom when she’d opened the bathroom door and seen that I was here.

Frequently, I’d thought about how odd it was that such a shy girl was dating such a rambunctious boy, but that was their business.

Moreover, now, for some reason or another, she’s standing in the doorway of the bedroom, staring at me. I haven’t looked behind me, but I know she’s there. I heard the door open, after all. She probably wants to talk to me about something, but until she says so, I’m not gonna acknowledge her.

You know, ’cause I’m petty like that.

I turn the page of the book I’m reading, _History of the Third Shinobi World War,_ which I’d borrowed from the Konoha Library so that I could catch up on current events. Clearly, I still have a long way to go.

I’m halfway through a passage about the influence of the war on trade at the time when the sound of her toes gliding across the floorboards whilst she fidgets reaches my ears, and my patience cracks.

“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” I say, swiveling around to peer at her over the arm of the couch, the textbook still open on my lap. “What is it, Hinata-san?”

The girl jumps a little as I finally acknowledge her. Her light purple eyes widen as my dark blue ones narrow. I’d never been much of a fan of the Hyuugas, despite the fact that our clans had close diplomatic relations. For the most part, I’d attributed my distaste for them to their utilization of a Forbidden Seal that they used to kill their own clansmen. That sort of thing had always left a bad taste in my mouth, ninja or not.

However, this girl seems to be nice enough, and she makes Naruto very happy, so as clan head, I’ll let the relationship slide.

That being said, I still find her odd. She’s quite shy for a kunoichi, and right now, she still only has a towel on even though she’d gotten out of the shower twenty minutes ago. Weird.

“Um, do you have any spare clothes I could borrow p-please, Nara-san,” she asks, fudging her words a little out of nervousness.

“Nope, sorry.” I shrug, explaining, “What you see is what you get.” Unfortunately, I hadn’t found my spare clothes in the box Sakumo had left me. I guess he’d thrown them out. Quirking my head to the side, I ask, “Why?”

“Um,” she starts, playing with the ends of her hair, still dripping as it hangs over her shoulder. “I don’t have anything to change into.”

Shrugging again, I suggest, “Just wear what you had on before and change when you get home.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

Her head droops, and she sighs. “Naruto took them.”

Unbidden, I bark out a shocked laugh. “What?”

Gesturing behind herself, she explains, “I had them in my training bag, and he must’ve taken it by mistake when he left, and—and—” She cuts herself off there, evidently too flustered to continue, and covers her reddening face with her hands.

I try to keep myself from laughing in light of her discomfort, but after a few seconds, I can’t help myself. I close my book, leave it next to me on the cushion and stand, clutching my side to stop myself from busting a gut, and walk over to her. Peering past her into Naruto’s room, I see his duffel bag laying on the floor, completely packed. I point at it. “I’m guessing your bag was right next to his?”

Timidly, she nods. “I left it there before I jumped in the shower.”

“Mhm,” I acknowledge. A funny thought occurs to me. “Just out of curiosity, what does yours look like?”

“Um, it’s white, and i-it has a purple stripe and the Hyuuga crest.”

Looking back at Naruto’s bag, I see that it is—of course—orange and emblazoned with our own clan’s crest. I roll my eyes. How did he even make this mistake? Did he put on a blindfold before stepping out?

Sighing, I turn back to Hinata. “I suppose you’ll just have to wear something of his to get home.”

Vigorously, she shakes her head from side to side, looking fearful. “N-no!”

“Why not,” I ask, laughing again.

“It would be indecent,” she whispers earnestly, ducking her head.

Deadpanning, I tell her, “Hinata-san, everyone in the _village_ knows you’re dating.”

Squirming, she says, “Yes, but then they’ll th-think that I—that we—they’ll think—”

“Okay, okay.” I wave my hands in front of me in a placating motion to calm her down. “I understand. You don’t have to say it.” Breathing heavily, her face still beet red, she thanks me. “Don’t worry about it.”

Believing this all to be over, I jump over the arm of the sofa to settle in my seat and crack open my book once again. I’m twenty seconds into the next paragraph before Hinata staring at me draws my attention again.

“Yes?”

Agitated, her voice a bit squeaky, she worriedly exclaims, “So what should I do?”

“Just wait for him to get back.”

“I can’t.”

It feels like we’re going around in circles. “Why not?” How many times have I asked this question today?

“I have to be at the Hyuuga compound in a half an hour,” she explains. “My father wants me to sit in on a meeting, and—”

“You know what,” I cut her off, standing once more to grab Naruto’s bag from his room. “I’ll go get your bag for you.”

“What,” she mumbles, rigid with shock as I pass her. “Y-you don’t have to.”

“No, it’s fine,” I assure her. My foot already out the door, I tell her, “I’ll be back in ten.”

* * *

Stepping onto the field of the Third Training Ground, I dodge the debris coming from where Naruto and Sasuke are sparring. Those morons sure are destructive.

I’d used Sage Mode to track Naruto down, not in the mood to look for him the old-fashioned way. Moreover, Hinata has to be home soon, so I don’t have all day.

I skirt around the boys, and neither of them seem to notice me wandering around amid their fighting. I quickly make my way over to their gear and, sure enough, I find Hinata’s bag sitting under a tree. Heaving it over my shoulder and throwing Naruto’s bag in its place, I turn to return to the apartment. I’ve moved a mere five steps before a tree—yes, a _tree_ —crashes from the sky in front of me, halting me in my tracks.

It’s at this moment that Naruto and his friend finally notice that they’re not alone, and he quickly yells over an apology. “Sorry, Nara-baa! I didn’t see you there!”

“Do you even care that you’re _destroying_ this place? Other people need to use it, you know,” I holler back, conveniently leaving out that I frequently do the exact same thing.

At my comment, Naruto pauses, turning his neck to survey his surroundings. The training grounds have been completely leveled, the ground either blown apart or severely scorched. Several trees lie uprooted and smoking, including the one at my feet. Perhaps most startling of all, there are a few small fires brewing in some of the foliage.

Scratching the back of his head, he smiles and turns to his friend, his tone sheepish. “Maybe we went a little overboard, eh, Teme?” Sasuke shrugs in reply. Looking at the Uchiha kid, the wheels start turning in my head to place him. Every time I see him, I can’t help but feel like he looks like someone I know, or like I’ve met him before. Of course, the latter is impossible, so it must be the former. I’ve run through every Uchiha I’ve met, yet he doesn’t look like any of them more than another.

Cheerily, Naruto dashes over to me, hopping over the trunk of the tree in his wake. “So, Nara-baa, what’s up? Did you come to see me train? I have a couple _super cool_ moves I could show you! My favorite is the Sexy no jutsu! The way it works is—”

“You know what, Naruto,” I interrupt him. He ceases talking, pouting. “I’d love to see _whatever_ that is, but I really gotta get back.” With that, I brush past him, walk through the tree and make my way back to the apartment as quickly as possible.

* * *

The sun is low in the sky as I sort through the documents in the less-intimidating box that the Hokage gave me, growing more and more irritated as I go. Sure, most of these documents are merely records of missions I went on or council projects I was indirectly included in, but as I read through them, I can’t help but feel that I missed out on a lot.

Of course, I’d known that such was true the moment I’d come back, really. I missed everything. Kushina growing up, my friends getting married and raising their kids, Kushina getting married, Naruto’s birth, _Naruto_ growing up—everything! Thirty-six years of my life, just _gone._ It all seems so unfair.

Too exasperated and upset to continue, I slide the lid over the box and its contents. Hefting the box up, I slip it under the table next to its much older double. I lie back on the couch and throw my arm over my eyes, trying to relax.

My period of probation only halfway over, I don’t have much to distract myself with these days. I can’t go on missions, I spend a mere quarter of a day with Kurenai and Mirai, and Tsunade is always much too happy to kick me out of her house. I have therapy every day, but that’s boring as shit and I hate it.

After minutes of internal complaining, griping and good ol’ feeling sorry for myself, I begin to drift off, but Naruto coming out of his room rouses me from my near-sleep.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” he mumbles to himself. “I’ll do that later.”

Going into the kitchen, he opens the fridge and pulls out a can of soda. He opens it on the counter with one hand, scratching his bare chest with the other, seemingly unaware that I’m watching him from over the top of the couch. Suddenly, he makes a sound of indignation as the can finally pops open and he looks up towards the ceiling, angrily grumbling, “Well, I don’t wanna do it now-ttebayo.” I’m a little startled by the use of the verbal tick that’s so similar to his mother’s, _‘dattebane.’_ However, I’m more concerned with the question of _who_ he’s talking to.

“Uh, Naruto,” I call out, drawing his attention. “Are you . . . arguing with . . . yourself?”

Laughing, he replies, “Nah, I’m talking to Kurama.”

I draw my head back, narrow my eyes and sit up, confused. “Kurama?”

He nods, taking a sip of his soda. He then sharply turns his head to the left, spouting, “Will you stop saying that?”

A chill runs up my spine, and I jump from the couch. Rushing over to him, I warily ask, “Naruto, are you . . . talking to the Kyuubi?”

He sets his soda down on the counter. “Yeah. . . .”

If he’s talking to the Kyuubi, it must have free reign in Naruto’s body. It would only be too easy for it to take over and go on a rampage.

Growing increasingly distressed, I begin to flounder around him, searching across his chest and back for the seals that _should_ be on him. “Naruto,” I grind out, my voice panicked. “Where are the Four Symbols Seals?”

“Oh, um.” He runs his hand down his chest as though to cover himself from my scrutinizing gaze. “They’re gone.”

“Gone,” I bluster. “What do you mean ‘they’re gone?’”

“Well, Ero-Sennin removed them, and then—”

“He did what,” I shriek. Honestly, did Jiraiya have _no_ shame or conscience? He could’ve killed Naruto! I’m gonna have to go back and yell at his grave again for this.

Running back over the couch, I hastily pull out the older box from under the coffee table. Frantically, I rummage through it and pull out my sealing ink and brush. “Don’t worry. We can fix this,” I assure him, unscrewing the cap on the ink container. “I’ll just reapply the seals real quick.” Looking back at him frozen in the kitchen, I gesture to the couch with my hand clutching the poised ink-dipped brush. “Lie down.”

He shakes his head. “Nara-baa, it’s fine.”

I shake my head back at him, shifting anxiously on my feet at his reluctance. “Don’t worry,” I repeat, smiling and trying to reassure him. “The Kyuubi is already in you, so it’s not going to hurt.”

“No, I mean, you don’t have worry, I don’t need the seals.”

“Naruto,” I start, setting down the brush and ink in my impatience and walking back over to him. “Without the seals, we run the risk of the Kyuubi taking over your body, stealing your chakra—it could _kill_ you.”

Giving me a _far_ too relaxed smile, he says, “It’s okay. Kurama and I are friends.”

“Friends,” I echo, my chest clenching uncomfortably. He doesn’t seem to realize how dangerous this is. “Naruto, the Kyuubi is not a pet, it’s a demon. We need to be able to control it, and these seals—”

“Stop that.”

My brow furrowing, I ask, “Stop what?”

“Stop calling him that. His name is Kurama,” he insists.

“I don’t care what its name is,” I growl. “This is the monster that _murdered_ your parents!”

His face darkens with anger. “You don’t understand! He’s changed!”

“Naruto, look,” I say with a disbelieving laugh. “I get that you’ve had a nice little track record with people changing for the better and everything, but thousand-year-old demons don’t change!”

He gets in close to me, likely using his height to intimidate me. Taking a deep breath, he calmly states, “You know what? I’m done.” With that, he walks past me, grumbling a “Good night” out of the corner of his mouth.

“Oh, no.” I grab onto his upper arm, tugging him towards the sofa. “We are doing this whether you like it or not!”

We’re nearly at the couch when he rips his arm from my grasp, shooting me a resentful glare. “No!”

“Naruto!”

“No,” he shouts again. “You can’t order me around! You are not my mother!”

Oh, he did not just go there. _Especially_ because I am trying to save him from the very thing that ended his mother’s life.

Pointing at him contemptuously, I harshly whisper, “I am damn well close enough.”

“Well, you didn’t raise me,” he yells as a final point, tearing open his bedroom door and slamming it behind him before I can react.

His words hit a sore spot for me as I’ve been very guilty about what they entail for the past six weeks. I’ve been nothing but distant on top of that, so it’s no surprise that the tension that’s developed between us has escalated into this fight. Pushing my emotions down, I storm through his door, ready to continue the argument, though it has taken a bit of a turn.

Flinching and turning around as he senses my presence in his room, he makes to say something, but I beat him to it. “Naruto, I would have—”

“Well, you didn’t,” he shouts, cutting me off mid-atonement. Rubbing his hands down his face in aggravation, he pleads, “Just—just get out.”

“Naruto—”

“Get out!” His voice strikes a chord of uneasiness in me with its fervor, and my breath catches.

Ducking my head, I reply, “Very well, but I hope you know what you’re doing.”

With that, I leave, actually opening and closing the door this time. Numbly, I go to sit on the couch. My chest clenches uncomfortably again and my lip trembles with emotion. I try to stifle the torrent of remorseful and troubled feelings rising within in me, but it’s no use. Feeling tears gather at my lashes, I swiftly rise and head to the bathroom.

The shower muffles my sobs and washes away my tears.

* * *

After our big argument, it’s no surprise that Naruto doesn’t want to talk to me. A week passes, and the entire time, a tense silence presides over the apartment. Of course, I don’t spend much time there, but I can feel it whenever I walk in the door late at night before I collapse on the couch.

I squander most of my time away at the training grounds, taking my anger and misery out on clones and helpless trees. I go to therapy as mandated, but say nothing. When at Kurenai’s house, I only halfheartedly play with Mirai, too depressed to let myself have any fun.

It’s only halfway through the week when I learn that Naruto’s birthday falls on the coming Saturday, October tenth. As the information leaves Tsunade’s mouth, my stomach turns and an unsettling thickness settles in my throat. I rush to her bathroom, expecting to purge everything in my stomach, but I don’t. I merely sit there, uneasily clutching my neck and gut and breathing systematically in an attempt at calming myself down. It doesn’t work.

I feel this way for the remainder of the week.

On Friday, Tsunade insists that I “stop with the bullshit.”

We’re sitting in her living room, supposedly enjoying the afternoon together. Yeah, right.

“What ‘bullshit,’” I irritably snap back. I’m positively sick of her trying to cheer me up with her shitty pep talks.

“You’re acting like a child.” She nonchalantly sips at her sake as though she isn’t insulting me.

“I am not,” I reply callously.

“Oh, really?” She raises her eyebrows, and I just know I’m gonna get it. “You’re giving people the silent treatment, you turned around in the street yesterday when you noticed that you and Sakura would cross paths, you’re _refusing_ to talk to your therapist—”

I put my hand up to stop her. “Hold up; how do you know that?”

She looks down at the floor as she realizes her mistake, pretending to inspect something. Then, shrugging, she sits back, sipping her sake again. “Know what?”

My anger rises. “That I haven’t been talking at therapy!” As I was promised by Aiko, no one was ever supposed to know what we talked about—or _didn’t_ talk about—in our sessions.

Calmly, she sets her saucer down on the table beside us. “The Rokudaime told me.”

 _“Kakashi?”_ She nods. Standing up, I exclaim, “What the fuck?”

She glances at me from the corners of her eyes. “He gets reports.” Outraged, I sputter nonsensically. She scoffs. “What; you thought it was actually confidential,” she asks, surprised.

“Well, yeah.” I continue to stand for another few seconds, my body coursing with fury. Finally, I sit down, proclaiming, “Well, that shit’s over,” as I have no intention of ever going to therapy again.

I hope I didn’t say any embarrassing shit.

“Good luck with that,” Tsunade grunts, picking up her sake again. I’m unsure as to whether she’s responding to my statement or reading my mind.

Glaring at her, I snap, “And what the fuck is your problem—giving me a hard time about this shit? You can’t honestly tell me that you’re all calm and collected when the anniversary of Nawaki’s death comes around.”

Her face turns sour, and she glares at me in return for mentioning her brother. “Don’t bring him up.”

Indignant, I shout, “Well, then cut me some fucking slack! Kushina _just_ died!” She gives me a blank stare, and I amend, “For me, anyway.”

Sighing, she finally relents. _“Fine._ I’ll let up.”

“Thank you.” Relaxing, I lean back into her couch, taking a sip of my tea.

“But,” she starts up again.

Ugh. It never ends.

I shoot her another glare.

“It wouldn’t kill you to not be such a bitch to Naruto,” she rudely recommends.

“Hey!” I stand up again, my renewed indignance fueling me. “I was _not_ a bitch! I was merely _concerned_ that my nephew was keeping a tailed beast at bay with just his confident attitude!”

She waves her hand flippantly. “He’s fine.”

“No,” I whine, frustrated, and stomp my foot. “Not you, too! Can’t you see that this is insane? He’s just a kid! He needs the seals!”

“Nara,” she begins, yanking me to sit down on the couch again, likely tired of having to crane her neck to look up at me. I fall onto the cushions like a rag doll. “You’re only a few months older than him.”

Scoffing, I roll my eyes. “That may be, but I am from a wiser time.” I take another sip of tea, and as an afterthought, I add, “A time of which you have _clearly_ forgotten the lessons, by the way.”

She gulps down the rest of her sake from its bottle at my reminder of her age. “Whatever. At least, I’m not the only bitter old woman around here anymore.”

After I leave Tsunade’s, I stop by the Hokage’s office to inform him of the termination of my therapy sessions, to which he responds astonishingly well. Apparently, he’d been surprised that I had ever agreed to therapy in the first place, so he’s not too upset about me refusing to go anymore.

Lucky me, I guess.

* * *

I don’t sleep through the night, too upset to even think about resting. Limply laying on the couch with my limbs hanging over the side, I wait for the day to turn. When midnight hits, I try not to outwardly react, but I feel my insides turn again, so I jump from the sofa and rush to the bathroom. This time, I do empty my stomach of its contents, but it doesn’t serve to make me feel any better, and I continue to dry heave for several minutes. After brushing my teeth for the second time that night, I choke down some rice so that there’ll be something in my stomach.

I manage to keep it down for about fifteen minutes, but I give up thereafter, succumbing to the newfound physical misery. I return to the couch. Squirming at the sensations from my upset stomach, I remain there until a knock sounds at the door hours later.

It had started to rain at roughly five o’clock, and it’s pouring now, so I get up immediately to let whoever it is in. As I grasp the doorknob, I hear, “Naruto-kun, it’s me,” and I turn it to find Hinata on the doorstep. “Ah, Nara-san,” she greets me, clearly a little surprised. Stepping past me as I hold the door open, she asks, “Is Naruto awake?”

“No,” I answer, still holding the door open, mindlessly staring into the downpour outside.

“Okay, good. I wanted to make him breakfast-in-bed for his birthday,” she mumbles, and though I don’t turn around, I can picture the blush on her face. A chilly breeze slips into the apartment through the open doorway and washes over me. Oddly, the cold calms me, and without much thought, I step outside, closing the door behind me. “Nara-san, where are you go—”

I walk through the village directionless and without much of an idea of where to go. I let my body guide me through the rain, getting soaked as I go. Soon enough, I find myself wandering into a rather quiet part of the village—the cemetery.

I stop at the gate, not altogether surprised that I managed to make my way here. This place had been on my mind for weeks, and I’d even come a few times to say goodbye to some people—Jiraiya, Sakumo, a couple of other old friends. However, I’d always skirted around the area where I knew Kushina’s grave to be. I couldn’t stand the thought of seeing it, being near it, or even its mere existence.

Yet I know the truth. I know she’s dead. This is the day she died; eighteen years to the date.

Ducking my head, I choke back a sob and step into the cemetery. Past rows upon rows of graves, I make my way through the necropolis towards the one place I’d been avoiding ever since that fateful day when I had been woken up and informed of her death.

Kushina’s grave.

She doesn’t sit in some grand mausoleum as she hadn’t been buried with her husband, and her tombstone is altogether unremarkable. Yet as I stare down at her name carved into the stone, feelings of mourning rise within me stronger than they have ever before. The pounding of the rain feels heavier on my shoulders, and I fall to my knees just before the spot where the bottom of her gravestone runs into the Earth.

Kneeling here, I feel totally helpless. I was completely powerless to save her. Looking at her grave, I can’t help but feel for the first time that even if I had been there when Naruto was born, I couldn’t have done anything. Sitting here, everything feels so final. Everything feels so hopeless.

What had I spent my life doing? Why did I try so hard to become strong? Why had I bothered to bring myself to this point if I couldn’t even protect the one person that would have made it all worth it?

I shed blood, sweat and tears to be strong enough to protect her. I killed people to keep her safe. I went to war to make sure that her life wouldn’t be turned upside down.

And for what?

I run my fingers over her name, but in my grief, I soon find myself raking my nails over the gravestone, ripping at them and causing blood to run down the tombstone in the rain. I breathe heavily, trying to not start sobbing. Eventually, I calm down, pulling my hands into my lap as I wring them together.

Despite everything, I know none of what I’m feeling matters. Even now, with the way things turned out, I wouldn’t have changed a thing. I loved Kushina so much, I would’ve done anything to save her back then. I’d still do anything.

I love her so, _so_ much.

I love how happy she was in the mornings. I love how excited she got when people would come to the house. I love how understanding she was. I love how cute she was with her long red hair and chubby little cheeks.

A bittersweet smile tugs at my lips, and tears start to weigh down my lashes.

I loved her so, _so_ much.

I don’t know how long I sit by her grave, freely weeping and reminiscing on the past. After a while, I manage to stop crying long enough to get some words out about how I feel. I don’t try to say sorry like I did with Jiraiya and Sakumo, though. My sister didn’t die for nothing and she led a meaningful life. To apologize would be to disrespect her memory, and I don’t dare to do that. Goodness knows she’d probably kick my ass if I did.

I miss her so, so much.

“Nara-baa?”

My head snaps up at the interruption of my thoughts, and I turn to see Naruto with Hinata trailing alongside him. They’re standing underneath a black umbrella, looking surprised to see me.

“Hey,” I greet them, noticing for the first time how scratchy my voice sounds. I think about how I must look to them, sitting here with puffy red eyes, tear tracks down my cheeks, my hair sticking to my face and neck in clumps, and snot dripping from my nose. Sniffling, I push my hair back in an attempt to fix my disheveled appearance. “What’s up?”

“We, uh, just came from visiting my dad, so . . .” Naruto responds, trailing off.

“Oh, that’s cool.” Turning back toward the grave, I add, “Yeah, I’ve been here for . . . uh . . . what time is it?” Looking around me, though it’s still cloudy and raining, I can tell that the sun has gone down for the day.

“It’s eight o’clock,” Hinata offers, and I quickly do the math in my head.

“Oh, great, so I’ve been here for eleven hours,” I tell them, acting as though that’s no big deal, and it’s totally healthy for someone to talk to their dead little sister for such a long time.

Without any further pretense, Naruto comes to sit beside me, crossing his legs to mimic my position. If I were feeling more like myself, I’d reprimand him for not kneeling, as was proper, but I don’t have the heart to reprimand anyone right now. Not to mention, it’d be super hypocritical.

Hinata, kind as she is, holds the umbrella over us. For the first time since I’d stepped out of the apartment today, the pitter-patter of rain on my shoulders ceases.

Naruto begins talking to his mother, and I remain quiet as he does, listening. He speaks about his life, his friends, and whatever else comes to his mind.

As he goes on, I find myself becoming emotional again, but I hold back my tears as I don’t want anyone to see me crying. It would be far too embarrassing. Unfortunately, there’s something about the rain that seems to be encouraging me to just let it all out, and I inwardly curse all those times I’d allowed myself to cry in the shower.

“Anyway, Okaa-san,” Naruto continues, a somber smile across his lips. “I know I’ve been going on for a while, but I just really wanna thank you for giving birth to me. Without you and Otou-san, I never would’ve had the chance to meet everyone and be as happy as I am right now. I only wish that the two of you had been around to enjoy it all with me.” Tears begin to slip down my cheeks as he finishes, though neither he nor Hinata seem to notice.

The rain starts to fall on us again as Hinata sets down the umbrella to kneel next to Naruto, taking his hand in hers. She says a few words herself out of respect.

I find myself gazing at Naruto as she speaks, marveling at how happy and relaxed he is. Despite everything that’s happened to him, he’s managed to stay positive through it all. He’s always so nice, too, like nothing in the world could bring him down enough for that to change. Conversely, I’ve been nothing but cold to him, and for what? I’ve been looking at the bad side of things ever since _he_ fucking rescued me from the water prison, and it’s done me absolutely no good, not that I ever thought it would. I have been so foolishly consumed with the past and my mistakes that I have failed to realize what is right in front of me.

A second chance.

I may not have been around for Naruto’s childhood, but I’m here now, so I may as well make the most of it.

With this in mind, I launch myself to the side, gripping Naruto around the shoulders and pulling him into a hug.

“Nara-baa,” he sputters, taken aback at my sudden display of affection.

“Naruto,” I start, stuttering a little and openly sobbing. “I’m sorry for how I treated you these past weeks. I-I’ve been so mean and rude and—and I’m just really sorry, okay? I’ve been a terrible aunt, and I’m gonna try a lot harder. And you’re just really nice all the time and I’m sorry—” As my rant becomes more and more incoherent, he stops me.

Laughing slightly, he pulls away to look down at me. “Nara-baa, it’s okay. I forgive you, alright?”

Sniffling, I feel my eyes pool with more tears. “Really?”

He smiles, shrugging. “Of course.”

“B-But I’ve been so awful, and you—” I break off there, coughing as violent tremors suddenly rack my body.

Hinata jumps into action, rushing over to me and working my forehead protector off to take my temperature. “Nara-san, you’re burning up!”

“Really,” I mumble, shaking a little. “It feels kinda cold to me.”

“That’s only because you’re soaked to the bone,” she scolds. I make to shrug, but the action causes more tremors to course through me, and I start coughing again. She pulls me up from the ground, and I stumble as I feel the blood rush away from my head. Hinata wraps her arm under my shoulders to keep me upright. “You need to go home right now.”

“Psh, I’m fine,” I assure her as I step out of her grasp. Standing alone, I furrow my brow at how light my head suddenly feels, not that I should really be surprised. I’ve been sitting in the rain all day, there’s nothing in my stomach, and I’m incredibly dizzy. “Hey, why is the sky spinning . . .” I trail off, crashing to the ground.

* * *

“Naruto, I’m so sorry. I ruined your birthday,” I whine for what must be the millionth time today, sobbing on the couch. Though I don’t remember it, Naruto had apparently carried me back to his apartment, and Hinata had changed me into some of his old clothes, which of course, are orange.

Not that I’m complaining. Rather, I’ve been profusely apologizing for my actions ever since I woke up on the couch with a cold compress on my forehead and a blanket over me. As it would turn out, my brand of atonement comes with _violent_ weeping, which is likely a result of keeping in all my emotions for seven weeks despite having recently learned of _extremely_ upsetting events and developing—as my former therapist put it—severe cases of post-traumatic stress disorder and depression—whatever that means.

“Nara-baa, it’s fine. You didn’t ruin anything,” Naruto assures me from his seat next to me.

“But aren’t you supposed to have a party or something?”

“Don’t worry. Taking care of you hasn’t interfered with the party.” He goes on to explain that his birthday celebration had been held earlier in the day as all his friends had known that he’d wanted to visit his parents’ graves once night had fallen. My guilt partially subsides at his summation, but not completely.

“Nara-san,” Hinata interjects. “I made you some kayu with ginger for your stomach. Please try to eat all of it.” I take the bowl of congee from her outstretched hands, and guilt swells inside of me again. She shouldn’t’ve had to toil away in the kitchen making this for me, especially when she probably just wanted to spend time with her boyfriend on his birthday.

More tears leak from my eyes. “Thanks, Hinata-san. You’re so nice.” I take a preliminary bite of the porridge, and I don’t know if it’s just my emotions, but it’s the best porridge I’ve ever tasted. My tears ceasing, I look back up at her, telling her, “I’m gonna call you Hina-chan from now on, okay?”

“O-Okay, Nara-san,” she awkwardly replies, likely taken aback by my overly affectionate and familiar nickname for her.

“No,” I blurt out, grabbing her wrist. “Call me Nara.”

Her brow furrows and her eyes widen in embarrassment. “B-But you’re Naruto-kun’s aunt,” she argues.

“But Hina-chan, we’re friends now, right,” I ask, my voice imploring. Internally, I curse my tendency to cling when I feel unwell. It’s making me act like a helpless child. Luckily, I doubt either of these two are going to go blab about it to anyone.

“Right,” she answers, pulling her arm away and gesturing for me to continue eating, which I do. “Of course, Nara-sa—Nara.”

Naruto laughs good-naturedly at our interaction, and after explaining that it’s nearly her curfew, Hinata kisses him on the cheek in parting before leaving for the night.

With the food making me feel better and more like myself, I venture a little humor. “That’s all you get for your birthday?” Normally, I’d wiggle my eyebrows, too, but as I mentioned, I’m not feeling well. Besides, though we’re the same age, he’s still my nephew, so I suppose that’d be inappropriate.

Laughing again, he explains, “Well, it’s probably just ’cause you were here.”

Thinking aloud, I say, “Yeah, she seems pretty shy. How _exactly_ did you two get together?”

He shrugs, replying, “It’s kind of a long story.” Scrunching his face up in thought, he adds, “It’s actually kind of confusing, too.”

I spoon another bite of porridge into my mouth. “I’m listening.”

“Tch, it’s about time.”

For the first time in weeks, there’s genuine joy in my laughter.


	9. Happy Predictions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read, comment & enjoy!

The ball explodes in my hand, chunks of rubber flying in every direction.

Naruto lets out a groan of disbelief, leaning forward and exclaiming, “How are you doing this?”

Following his birthday, I’ve expressed how crucial it is that he and I bond as family and clansmen. At first, he was startled by my change of tune, claiming that it was “weird” because I was “such a temperamental bitch” before.

Of course, after I knocked him upside the head a few times, he decided to go with the flow. Hence, for the last two weeks, we’ve been spending time together non-stop. With the excuse of showing me around, he’s taken me to every ramen shop in the village, though he insists at each one that Ichiraku is the best. I’ve met nearly all of his friends, save for one who’s on a diplomatic mission to Suna that Naruto claims is merely an excuse for him to visit the man’s scary girlfriend. Sometimes, he manages to remain quiet long enough for me to tell him stories about his mother.

Today, like a lot of other days, we’re at the training grounds, teaching each other our respective techniques. Right now, I’m on my way to mastering rasengan, and Naruto is very upset with my progress.

“It took me _months_ to completely master it, but you’ve only been at this for two hours, and you’re already halfway done!”

“Oh, please,” I reply somewhat smugly, wiping off bits of rubber from my palm. “Let’s not forget that you were twelve, and I’m a _jounin.”_

When Naruto had first given me a water balloon and told me to burst it with just my chakra, I thought he was being ridiculous. It seemed like far too easy a task. Of course, it wasn’t, and it took me a while to figure it out. Eventually, I discovered that creating a rasengan was very similar to making a ball of chakra in your palm, and from then on, I got through the steps fairly quickly.

Pouting, he turns away from me, mumbling, “Whatever.”

Ruffling his short hair, I coo, “Aw, don’t be sad, Naru-chan!" He slaps my hand away, a light blush dusting his cheeks.

 _“Whatever,”_ he repeats.

I hum happily despite his dissatisfaction, feeling wonderfully content for the first time in a long time.

Too bad this has to end so early in the day.

“Anyhow,” I sigh, segueing to a different, less pleasant topic. “I have to get to the Hokage’s office. It’s being decided if I can be instated as an official shinobi.”

“Oh, yeah,” Naruto mumbles, his demeanor becoming serious. “For Sas’ke, too, right?”

Shrugging as I begin to walk towards the village, I reply, “I dunno. I guess.”

He makes a thoughtful sound as he falls into step beside me, looking at the ground. His eyes start to squint; he’s clearly contemplating something. After a moment, he asks, “What do you think is gonna happen?”

I link my arms behind my back before responding. “Well, I’m not really sure. If I recall correctly, Kaka-chan said that Sasuke would definitely be reinstated after three months. It’s really just my situation that’s up in the air.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” he all but shouts as we step onto the village streets. “I mean, half a relief,” he continues, his eyebrows having shot up when he realized that I wasn’t out of the woods yet. I give him an admonishing smile, amused by his antics.

He shoots me a relaxed smile. “But I’m sure you’ll be fine, Nara-baa. It’s not like you’ve ever done anything bad, right?”

Briefly, I reflect on what’s transpired throughout my life.

I keep myself from wincing.

“Yeah, everything’ll be just fine.”

* * *

The Rokudaime sits in the large chair behind his cluttered desk, leisurely perusing the small, orange book resting in his hand. He takes absolutely no care to pay the Uchiha or me any mind as we stand tensely in his office for the second time in three months.

From my position next to him, I can’t help but observe Sasuke again. He looks so damn familiar, but I can’t figure out who the fuck he is. An Uchiha—sure—but what else? One of his parents must have married into the Uchiha clan, but I don’t know anyone who was particularly close to someone in the lower ranks of the clan. I don’t even know anyone who wasn’t in or closely related to the main family, and everyone knows someone with such _rich blood_ can’t marry outside the clan.

Moreover, it’s not like I can _ask_ him who his parents are. I mean, sure, I _could,_ but they’re dead. Talk about insensitive. I know I hate it when people ask about my parents.

So, yeah, no clue why this kid looks so fucking familiar.

After what I’m sure he’s deemed as more than enough time to wait for someone that he clearly doesn’t want to speak to in the first place, Sasuke clears his throat in agitation.

Without so much as glancing our way, Kakashi holds up one finger as a signal for us to continue waiting. He gets as far as flipping to the next page before his former student angrily grinds out, “You’ve read that book a _thousand_ times.”

“And time one-thousand one is in progress,” he coolly replies, still not looking up.

Growing restless myself, I venture, “Hokage-sama, if it isn’t too much of an inconvenience—”

“It is,” he interjects.

My lips twist in an angry grimace, but before I can complain about being interrupted, Sasuke exasperatedly shouts, “Kakashi!”

Woah, screamin’ at the Hokage? Some gall this kid has.

And sure, I may have attempted to kill the Hokage, but that was _totally_ different.

Finally, Kakashi sets the book down and raises his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright, Sasuke. What is it?”

Sasuke opens his mouth to retort, but I beat him to the punch. “Damn it, Sakumo, you called us here,” I snap at the older man, all too ready to smack him upside the head for being so annoying.

Then I hear it.

Both men are staring at me with varying forms of confusion, their brows raised.

How did I confuse him for Sakumo? Sure, they look alike, but I _know_ this is Kakashi. I _just_ heard Sasuke call him by his name. I _know_ Sakumo is gone. I’ve been here for nearly three months, for goodness’ sake. You’d think I’d get it by now.

I laugh nervously, trying to ease the tension that comes with your brain mistaking your godson for your dead friend. My lips raise in a smile that doesn’t quite reach my eyes. “I mean, Kaka-chan—no, Hokage-sama, uh. . . .” Awkwardly, I rub the back of my neck. “You’re not Sakumo, obviously. I know that.”

Clasping my hands behind my back, I give another nervous laugh. Sasuke turns his gaze away from me, which Kakashi takes as a signal to finally address why we’re here.

Thank goodness.

 _“Anyway,”_ he presses, and I tip my head back in a final show of embarrassment. “As promised, Sasuke, you will be fully reinstated as a Konoha shinobi at the end of the week.” Sasuke nods in acknowledgment.

Kakashi turns his gaze to me, and I can almost see his lips purse in consideration under his mask.

Holding my breath, I imagine that it doesn’t bode well for me that I’ve just demonstrated my rather pathetic grip on reality to the man that’s to decide my fate.

“And Uzumaki-sama,” he drawls. For half a second, I catch a twinkle in his eyes, showing me that he’s enjoying letting me dangle like this.

Ugh, just like Sakumo.

“You’re good to go, too,” he unceremoniously states. I let out the breath I’d been holding.

Of course, I’m not so much relieved that I’ll officially be a part of Konoha—and it a part of me. After all, Konoha and its leaders are the reasons my sister and most of my friends are dead. I’m fairly certain they hold the responsibility for the demise of my clan and village, as well, but I can’t prove that yet. However, not having to be a rogue nin is especially gratifying.

“So,” Kakashi continues. “Because the two of you are being instated next week, you both have comprehensive physicals at the hospital scheduled for right now.” He checks a non-existent watch on his wrist. “If you don’t hurry, you’ll be late.”

Thirty minutes later, sitting on a clean hospital bed in a crowded room, I’m reminded as to why I hate hospitals.

They’re loud, smell like antiseptic—my least favorite smell in the world—and in a Hidden Village like Konohagakure, they’re mostly for ninja whose missions have gone horribly wrong.

To top it off, I’m surrounded by screaming children, snarky medics, and a brooding idiot.

“Remind me again why we’re not in a private room,” I ask Sakura as she tightens the strap of the blood pressure monitor around my arm. Out of the corner of my eye, I catch a young girl eating her boogers and suppress the urge to shudder in disgust.

“Hospital is over-packed,” Sakura replies shortly, indicating that she’s given that answer about a thousand times today. “We’re having a pretty nasty flu season.” Grimly, I recall the flu I’d had a few weeks ago and nod in understanding.

She jots down whatever the machine tells her on a clipboard, flips the page over and asks, “Blood type?”

Slightly embarrassed, I feel a frown tug at my lips. “Uh, don’t know?”

“That’s fine,” she sighs, clearly used to dealing with clueless patients. “We’ll just test for it.” She checks something off on the clipboard and continues to ask me other questions, most of which I can actually answer.

After I tell her that I’m void of any allergies, she opens her mouth to ask me something else, but Ino cuts her off, loudly screaming down at her patient, “Sexual history?”

Her outburst draws my attention, and I witness the Uchiha glare up at the blond, gritting his teeth and muttering, “No.”

“‘No’ is not an answer,” she agitatedly screeches.

“Ino,” Sakura whispers harshly, tipping her head to gesture at the other occupants of the room. “There are children in here.”

Ino turns around, shooting Sakura a pleading look. “But he’s not being cooperative,” she whines. Almost as if to confirm her claim, he throws a bored stare at the wall.

Sakura sighs yet again. “Sasuke-kun, the sooner you answer the questions, the sooner you can leave.”

In what must be his version of a pout, he flashes his eyes at her, grunting, “Hn.”

Before I can wonder if that means he’s willing to cooperate or not, Sakura says, “Thank you.”

Naruto’s team is so weird.

For a moment after she’s turned back to me, her eyes linger on the clipboard, but they’re unfocused. Her head is cocked ever so slightly to her left, which would allow her to better hear the conversation going on behind her.

A small smirk tugs at my lips. I’ve been on enough reconnaissance missions to know that look. She wants to hear his answer.

After a moment, a content, relaxed smile slips onto her face, and her eyes sparkle in relief. I roll my eyes.

We finish the questionnaire and proceed with the physical. Sakura checks my ears and eyes with a small, handheld scope. She sticks a popsicle stick down my throat in an effort to see my tonsils, and I gag pathetically.

She makes to pick up the stethoscope from around her neck before Ino screaming distracts her again.

“Just let me check your ears,” Ino grinds out, growing more furious with each passing second. The lens of the scope in her tightened fist pops off from the strain of her grasp. Sasuke wears a disinterested, shameless expression.

Sakura’s form takes an exasperated stance. Her shoulders tense, and she holds out her hands by her sides. “Ino, stop yelling.”

“But Sakura,” Ino whines again, drawing out the last syllable of her friend’s name. She grabs Sakura’s wrists, pouting and giving Sakura an imploring stare. “He won’t listen to me. Let’s switch.”

From my seat behind her, I watch Sakura’s shoulders droop. She whispers something imperceptible to Ino, and an extremely quiet conversation ensues between the two of them.

Slowly, my attention drifts to the Uchiha, the man forcing me to suffer through this ridiculous delay. He doesn’t notice, his dark gaze riveted on his former teammate.

Ah, so this is why he’s being so fucking difficult. He wants Sakura to administer his physical. What a child.

I roll my eyes again, irritated even moreso.

Finally, a dejected sigh of surrender comes from Sakura, and the two medic nins switch clipboards. Ino skips over to me, a grin of victory planted on her face. I witness Sakura somewhat begrudgingly trudge over to Sasuke from across the aisle of hospital beds.

I don’t get it. If she likes him, then why does she seems to so put out by the thought of having him as a patient?

Ino draws my attention. “Nara-san, I’m going to listen to you heart and lungs, and then feel for some of your organs and lymph nodes, so if you could please remove your shirt?” She holds the chest piece of a stethoscope ready in her hand with the ear tips already in her ears. Her eyebrows are raised expectantly.

“Uh, I’m not really wearing any binding right now,” I sheepishly admit.

As a girl without much to flaunt, I rarely bother to bind my chest before stepping out. Sure, it’s led to a few nip-slip accidents, but it’s too much of a hassle.

Ino’s brow furrows in confusion. “Don’t you have a bra on?”

“What’s a bra,” I ask in return, confused.

For a brief second, she wears a blank expression. Then: “Oh, my gosh, Forehead,” Ino excitedly gushes, turning around to her friend. “Nara doesn’t know what a bra is!”

Is she making fun of me? Is there some reason I should know what the fuck a bra is?

“What’s a bra,” I repeat, but Ino ignores me.

What the fuck?

Sakura stands behind her patient, listening to his heartbeat from the stethoscope placed on his back. Distractedly, she pulls one of the ear tips from her ear. Raising an eyebrow at her friend, she asks, “What?”

“Nara doesn’t know what a bra is,” Ino reiterates, giggling.

_“What’s a bra?”_

“Who cares,” Sasuke grunts in response to the blond, irritated and visibly uncomfortable. Inadvertently, my eyes are drawn to the now uncovered stump of his left arm. It hangs at his side, wrapped in gauze, which is no doubt covering nasty scars from what Naruto characterized as a “good-natured, friendly fight.”

Suddenly bitter, I find myself full of ill will for the dark-haired Uchiha sitting across from me. It’s true that I’ve never really been too fond of anyone from his clan—they were all too brooding and pretentious in my opinion—but this one really drives me up the wall. I mean, sure, he’s had more than his fair share of bullshit thrown at him, but I see no reason for him to nearly kill my nephew multiple times.

Not to mention he’s rude, crass, grossly apathetic, and—

“Of course not, Ino,” Sakura replies, diverting me from my not-so-nice train of thought. “They were only invented around twenty-five years ago, and not many kunoichi make use of them.”

Shrugging, Ino divulges, “I always wear one. Don’t you?”

Extremely put out at this point, I shout, “Hey! Will someone please explain shit to me?”

In a rather bored, clinical tone, Sakura elucidates, “Bra is short for brassiere, which is an undergarment that supports your breasts.”

I raise an eyebrow as I try to picture what this contraption would look like. Unsurprisingly, I come up with nothing.

“Well, don’t worry, Nara-san,” Ino assures me. “We’ll take you shopping for some soon enough.”

Before I can voice any objections that I may have—I haven’t very much money, I don’t want or probably even need a bra, shopping is dreadful—Sakura groans, “Ugh, ‘we?’”

“Yes, _we,”_ Ino responds automatically, not even turning back to look at Sakura. She sticks her hand under my top, and the cool metal of the diaphragm meets the skin of my chest as she searches for my heartbeat. From over her shoulder, I can see Sakura poke around Sasuke’s torso for any abnormalities as he lies supine on the bed. Both of them sport rather deep blushes.

After listening for my heartbeat and checking my lymph nodes, Ino has me lie down to prod around my abdomen, as well. Once she’s deemed that I’m not in immediate danger of having an appendicitis, she sends me to the lab down the hall for blood work, which only takes five minutes.

I leave the hospital as quickly as possible.

* * *

_The hall was damp and had a distinct, mossy smell. A throne stood in the center of the far wall, and in it sat an enormous brown toad. He squinted at Jiraiya and me from the other end of the spacious hall._

_Wringing my hands, I nervously whispered to Jiraiya, “Are you sure this is a good idea?”_

_“Relax,” he told me, one hand on my shoulder. “There’s nothing to worry about.”_

_Not entirely convinced, I glanced at the toad again. Of course, I knew who he was. Jiraiya, Ma and Pa had all told me about him—Gamamaru, the Great Toad Sage. He was well known for his freakishly accurate premonitions, not all of which were very happy predictions._

_Moreover, for whatever reason, he wanted to speak to me._

_With one hand flat on the space between my shoulders, Jiraiya shoved me forward into the room. Not one to look foolish, I begrudgingly made my way across the rest of the hall until I stood within twenty paces of the ancient toad._

_I gave a slight bow, muttering “Hello” as my eyes flitted across his wrinkled face._

_He nodded at me in return. “Uzumaki Nara.”_

_After a brief smile that I’m sure came across as more of a grimace, I made to respond, but he swiftly cut me off, adding with no pretence whatsoever, “I foresee a great deal of strife and heartbreak for you.”_

_A bit taken aback, my brow furrowed and my eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”_

_He ignored my question, continuing, “I regret that you have already seen hard times.”_

_His words washed over me, and for a moment, I let a bit of the world weigh down on me. At sixteen, I’d had more grief than I ever could’ve imagined. I felt the seals on my arms burn, heard the cries of thousands as they died during the war, pictured the way my parents’ eyes shone right before they were killed, remembered the feeling of Misaki’s skin under my fingers as Souichirou was blown apart._

_Yes, I supposed I had seen hard times already._

_Somewhat bitterly, I turned my head to look over my shoulder and shot a glare at Jiraiya. Nothing to worry about, my ass._

_The rumbling lilt of Gamamaru’s voice reclaimed my attention as the great toad resumed speaking. “But the war is not over until it is won, and_ a soldier is not at peace until she is dead.”

_A chill ran up my spine. I knew that the words of the Great Toad Sage were not to be taken lightly, but I never expected such power to resonate behind them. I, the soldier he spoke of, knew I had no chance against fate._

_My voice came out low and terrified. “Have I more to lose then?”_

_An abundance of smoke billowed from the sticks of incense beside the throne. Gamamaru opened his mouth to speak, and I knew the prophecy was to follow._

“You shall love the man with a scar across his nose

“And he shall love you in return

“But the mystery of what is left of your broken world shall be shattered

“By an old foe lurking in the shadows of time

“And a man with the scar across his nose shall put the soldier at peace.”

I wake, bolting upwards on the couch, terror and adrenaline lingering from my dream.

Fuck, it’s been a long time since I’ve dreamt of that day. I’d almost forgotten how terrifying it was to learn the circumstances of my own death.

I brush sweat from my forehead, willing my breathing to slow down as I piteously tremble under my blanket.

“You and Sasuke always have the same expression when you wake up,” Naruto says from the kitchen.

Adrenaline spiking again, I gasp in surprise at his sudden appearance, whip my head to the side to look at him, and press my hand to my chest.

After taking another moment to calm down, I rise from the sofa and trudge over to the kitchen for a glass of water.

“Don’t compare me to him,” I gripe as I reach for a glass from the cabinet next to the fridge and fill it up.

Instead of backing down, he asks, “Were you dreaming about them? Your clan?” His tone remains uncharacteristically somber, allowing a twinge of unease to settle within me.

“Our clan,” I correct before taking a gulp of cool water.

He nods. “Right, my mistake, but uh, were you?”

Shaking my head, I make to respond, but I snap my mouth shut before the truth can spill out. It may not be such a great idea to reveal the circumstances of my impending death—however far off it may be—to my nephew. We’ve only just come into each other’s lives. It would be cruel to rob him of the only family he’s ever had so soon.

My voice catches as I lie through my teeth. “It was about Kushina.”

“Oh.” He fidgets uncomfortably. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

 _“No,”_ I reply a little too harshly.

He puts his hands up in surrender. “Jeez, sorry. Excuse me for caring.”

Sighing, I set my glass down on the counter. “Naruto, I didn’t mean it like that. I just—” I stop myself once I catch a glimpse of the mirth in his eyes and elbow him in the side. “Oh, come on, that was _not_ funny,” I say, a smile coming to my face in spite of my words.

I refill my glass in the sink, go to the couch, and place my water on the coffee table. Lying back under my blanket, I look up to see Naruto’s head leaning over the side of the couch.

“Hey, when we wake up in a few hours, do you wanna train with me? You can finally meet Iruka and Shikamaru. They’re getting back from their mission tomorrow.”

I close my eyes in preparation for the sleep soon to come. “I’d love to, Naruto, but I have the Autumnal Clan Summit tomorrow.”

“Ooh, sounds boring. Have fun,” he cheerily replies. The sound of his footsteps disappear into his room.

I snort despite knowing he can’t hear me. “Yeah, I’m sure I will.”

* * *

Standing alone in a crowded hall of the other clan heads of Konohagakure in the Hyuuga compound, I search for someone to talk to whilst stuffing my face with mini donuts. Turning my head, I notice Uchiha Sasuke scowling at the floor on the other side of the room.

Nah. Pass.

I push another donut past my lips before I spot Ino stepping through the doors of the conference room with a dark-haired man about our age at her side. Delighted, I skip over to her, dodging a few geezers on my way. “’Sup, Yamanaka, who’s the dude?”

“Hey, Nara-san.” Gesturing to her friend, she says, “This is Nara Shikamaru, my old teammate.” He nods in greeting.

“Oh, a Nara. Cool. You know, I once told this guy Nara Shikazu that if I married him, my name’d be Nara Nara. Funny, right?”

Shikamaru gives me a wary once-over, mumbling, “Uh, yeah.”

Shrugging, I add, “His wife didn’t think so. She challenged me to a duel. I’m sure your girlfriend’d do the same.”

At my statement, he reels back, clearly embarrassed. “I don’t have a girlfriend!”

I raise an eyebrow, looking to Ino in question. She looks about ready to bust a gut. “That’s just what Naruto told me.”

Blushing, he stuffs his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, well, Naruto says a lot of troublesome things.”

“So I’ve gathered,” I respond, laughing. “Anyway, as I’m sure you’ve surmised from the red hair and oversharing, I’m his aunt.”

He nods. “Yes. Uzumaki Nara, the Girl Who Killed Three Kage.”

Huh, so he’s heard of me.

I examine him a little more closely. None of Naruto’s other friends have recognized me, much less known any of my nicknames from back in the day. This guy may seem apathetic and laid back, but from the clever twinkle in his eyes, I can tell that he isn’t the kind of person I should ever underestimate.

“Hold on,” Ino exclaims. “You killed three Kage? _When?”_

“Ino,” Shikamaru drawls, tipping his head towards her. “She ended the Second Shinobi World War.”

Ino takes a step back, completely shocked. “You _what?”_

Suddenly, a bell chimes, signalling for the summit to officially begin. Glad that I don’t have to explain myself right away, I point a finger at the ceiling. “Saved by the bell!”

Angry at my non-answer, Ino sputters indignantly as I drag her towards the giant table. I slide into a chair towards the center of the table and pull out the seat next to me for her. Instead of taking it, she gives me a strange stare. “Nara, what are you doing,” she whispers.

“Sitting.”

She tugs my chair away from the table, and I have to keep myself from tumbling onto the floor. “We can’t sit here.”

Confused, I ask, “Why not? Is it assigned seating?”

“No, we’re women. We have to sit in the chairs on the wall.”

Incredulous, I whip my head around to look around the room. Sure enough, three chairs rest against the wall on the far end of the hall.

Oh, _hell_ no.

 _“What,”_ I grit out, suddenly too angry to be out in public, much less at an important clan summit. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

“I wish I was,” Ino hisses back. “Now, get up.”

I grip the side of table and pull my chair back into place, then yank Ino into the seat next to mine. “But I don’t understand,” I whisper to her amid the scandalized stares of the other clan heads. “Before I got put to sleep, Konoha was ahead of Uzushio in women’s rights.”

She grabs my arm off the table top, stands up and tries once again to pull me from my seat. “Yeah, well, there’s been a bit of a regression ever since Tsunade became Hokage, so _let’s go.”_

Gritting our teeth, we engage in an attempt at a quiet wrestling match with me trying to keep us both at the table and Ino trying subdue me in an effort to save face. It’s settled by Shikamaru shoving us both into our seats and pushing our chairs into the table. He hisses, “Both of you _shut the fuck up_ and act like adults,” and slides into the chair on the other side of Ino. His cool mask of indifference from earlier slips back into place, and he faces forward, waiting for the meeting to commence. Ino shoots me one more glare before doing the same.

Over her shoulder, I spot a middle-aged woman and two older men grudgingly settling into the chairs against the wall. Somehow, I manage to keep myself from smirking.

“Alright, gentlemen,” Hyuuga Hiashi begins. Sparing a glance at Ino and me, he adds, “ladies, let’s begin.”

* * *

Stepping onto the training grounds with Shikamaru and Sasuke, I keep one finger in my ear to keep Ino from deafening me with her screeching.

“—the most embarrassed I have ever been in my entire life! Where do you get off? What if that had backfired? I swear, if you—”

“Ino,” I shout, tired of being browbeaten by her. _“Enough._ What I did _worked.”_ We stop by a large tree stump near the tree line on the outskirts of the field. “But I’m sorry, okay?”

She crosses her arms and huffs, turning away from me and sticking her nose in the air. “Well, apology not accepted.”

I roll my eyes, but decide to leave it at that. The four of us stand a reasonable distance away from Naruto, who’s sparring with a slightly older man I assume to be Iruka. Ready for some action myself, I start on a few warm-up stretches and ask, “Uchiha-kun, wanna spar?”

He doesn’t even spare me a glance. “No.”

Jeez, what a charmer.

As I finish up my stretches, Naruto and his sparring partner approach us. I stand up to greet my nephew. “Hi, kiddo.”

“Hey, Nara-baa!” Naruto ambles over to me, trapping me in a hug and spinning me around despite my ensuing protests. Once he sets me back down, he asks, “How was your meeting?”

I sigh, hoping Ino doesn’t decide to start screaming at me again. “Eh, uneventful.”

_“Uneventful?”_

_“Let it go.”_

Following our outburst, Naruto shares a glance with Shikamaru, mumbling, “Okay. . . . Anyway! Since you’ve already met Shikamaru, I’d like to introduce you to Iruka.”

With a bow and a polite smile, I acquaint myself with Naruto’s former sensei, looking up to see a man with a scar across his nose.

“Ah, fuck.”


	10. Not Surprised

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please read, comment & enjoy!

_As I finish up my stretches, Naruto and his sparring partner approach us. I stand up to greet my nephew. “Hi, kiddo.”_

_“Hey, Nara-baa!” Naruto ambles over to me, trapping me in a hug and spinning me around despite my ensuing protests. Once he sets me back down, he asks, “How was your meeting?”_

_I sigh, hoping Ino doesn’t decide to start screaming at me again. “Eh, uneventful.”_

“Uneventful?”

“Let it go.”

_Following our outburst, Naruto shares a glance with Shikamaru, mumbling, “Okay. . . . Anyway! Since you’ve already met Shikamaru, I’d like to introduce you to Iruka.”_

_With a bow and a polite smile, I acquaint myself with Naruto’s former sensei, looking up to see a man with a scar across his nose._

_“Ah, fuck.”_

He’s here. He’s in Konoha. He’s my nephew’s old sensei.

I’m _so_ screwed.

Naruto’s nose scrunches up in confusion. “What?”

Managing to tear my eyes away from the scarred man, I mutter back, “What?”

“You just said, ‘fuck,’” Naruto explains.

I purse my lips, as though I’m contemplating his accusation. “No, I didn’t.”

“Yes, you did,” the Uchiha cuts in. Teeth clenched, I cut him an indignant glare.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Iruka giving me an odd look, which is understandable considering how weird I’m acting, but it unnerves me nonetheless. The hairs on the back of my neck are standing at attention, fueled by my adrenaline, which is flaring and urging me to bolt.

Taking a step back while making sure to keep Iruka in my peripheral vision, I tell Naruto, “You know what, I have to go.”

“What,” he asks, his face scrunched up again. “Why?”

I take another few steps back. “I have . . . laundry to do.”

“But you’re wearing all the clothes you own.”

Another couple of steps. “I’m, uh, going commando.”

Ino’s hands go to her hips, and her eyebrows pull together in puzzlement. “You told me you had a wedgie earlier, though.”

“Will everyone just stop contradicting me,” I shout, finally turning tail and scuttling away as fast as possible.

Not five minutes later, I’m barging into Tsunade’s office and trying to hide the fact I’m shaking. “Tsunade!”

Despite her obvious surprise at my sudden arrival, she coolly replies, “Nara.” Her eyes follow my form as I pace back and forth in front of her desk. “You’re in a hospital. Willingly.” I can hear the shock in her voice. She knows I secretly fear hospitals.

Instead of directly answering her silent question, I tell her, “He’s here.”

Impatiently, she raises an eyebrow and taps her pen on the desk. “Who?”

Incensed, I stop pacing and stomp my foot. “Iruka! Who else?”

Clearly bewildered, she takes a moment before asking, _“Umino_ Iruka, the Academy sensei? What about him?”

Incredulous at how long it’s taking her to get this, I lock eyes with her and draw one finger over my nose.

She scoffs. “Is that supposed to mean something? Why are you—” She stops talking, her lips drawing together as realization hits her.

However, just as soon as her shocked expression appeared, it goes away. She waves her hand at me. “No, you’re wrong. It’s not him.”

I march up to her desk, place my hands on the top and lean towards her. “Oh, it’s him.”

“Nara, no,” she flippantly assures me, shaking her head. “He’s just a chuunin, and not even a very good one. He can’t kill you. It’s not him.”

Laughing humorlessly, I push off the desk. “That’s just what he _wants_ us to think.”

She looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, which is _insane_ because I’m clearly the only one with her head on straight. “Nara, it’s not him.”

“It is!”

Sighing, she stands, comes around her desk and places her hands on my shoulders. I try in vain to keep my anxious ass from fidgeting. In an imploring voice, she tells me, “Nara, if you keep going with this, I’m going to have to change my mind about who the dumber Uzumaki is.”

Her statement having done nothing to calm me, I continue with my pacing. I walk through Tsunade three times before she finally gets out of my way. Discouraged, she goes back to sit behind her desk and proceeds with her paperwork.

“I’m positive it’s him,” I continue.

“And why is that,” she drawls in a bored tone, scribbling something down on a patient file.

My pacing slows as I gather my thoughts. “In the prophecy, it says that the man with a scar across his nose is gonna kill me.”

“Yes,” Tsunade agrees. “And yet, you’ve run into plenty of other men with scarred noses who you’ve never even considered to be the guy that giant toad warned you about.”

 _“That’s_ because the _other_ part of the prophecy never came into play.”

She rolls her eyes. “And what part is that? The creepy one about some ghost in the fog of time?”

I stop pacing to stomp my foot again. “One, that isn’t even the line. _Two,_ no. The beginning of the prophecy is all about me _falling in love with him.”_

Raising an eyebrow, she asks, “What are you trying to tell me here? Are you in love with him?”

“No, I’m not in love with him,” I exclaim. “But . . .”

Before I registered that Iruka was _the_ one—the one I would fall in love with, the one that would love me back, the one that would kill me—I just saw _him._ His gorgeous tan skin. His sparkling brown eyes. His small, sweet smile. His hair that I can only imagine is so, so soft. He was so beautiful.

“But . . .” Tsunade presses, breaking me out of my reverie.

A short whine escapes my lips. “He’s so pretty,” I breathe.

Exasperated, she throws her pen onto the desk. “Nara,” she groans, dropping her head into her hands. “What is wrong with you?”

“I don’t know,” I scream in total tantrum mode. “Tsunade,” I whine, “I’m gonna die.”

She looks away from me and massages her temples. “Yeah, it looks like it.”

_“Tsunade.”_

“Just stay away from him, Nara,” she insists. “Okay? Just stay away from him.”

Twiddling my thumbs, I look down at my shifting feet. My anxiety hasn’t gone away since I got here, and I’m starting to feel queasy. “What if I can’t?”

She goes back to her paperwork. “Well, then it’d be official.”

My neck is damp with cold, nervous sweat. “What would?”

“You _are_ the dumber Uzumaki.”

* * *

I camped out in Naruto’s apartment for the rest of the day, praying he didn’t decide to bring Iruka over.

I’m still alive, so evidently, he didn’t.

Now, in the middle of the night, I’m between night terrors, lying on Naruto’s couch with one leg thrown over the side. I’ve awoken five times from dreams in which Iruka viciously murders me.

In the first one, he just straight-up killed me. No lead-up or anything, just _surprise:_ I’m dead.

In the next one, he chased me for a while. I almost got away, or at least, I thought I did. Then I turned a corner, and he was right there, waiting for me with a poisoned kunai.

In the third one, I think I was already dead. That, or he buried me alive. I spent the whole dream screaming and scratching against the inside of a coffin until my nails broke off, my fingers bled, and I suffocated.

I don’t remember the fourth one, though I’m sure it involved me dying a perfectly gruesome death.

The fifth and final one was the worst. We were in bed together—not like that—just snuggling up to each other. And then _bam!_ I’m dead _again._

The thing that got me was that before he killed me,  

Suffice it to say, I did not enjoy having it shattered.

* * *

I gave up trying to sleep after my eighth nightmare, so I started tearing through all the copied documents Kakashi gave me to make sure I won’t have any unfinished business when Iruka kills me. I’ve already gotten through any and all paperwork that concerned Kushina or her husband, Namikaze Minato.

I’m elbow-deep in old mission reports when Naruto returns from the mission he’d left for early this morning. He takes a few slow steps into the apartment as he surveys the messy spread I’ve set up in the living room. “You’re still doing this?”

Without looking up, I reply, “Yup.”

He leans over the back of the couch and reads from my new journal from over my shoulder. “Is that my journal?”

I’d needed something in which to record anything important from the documents, and after scavenging around the apartment for a while, I finally found a small, unused journal in a dusty corner of Naruto’s room. “Not anymore.”

“Uh, okay.” Cautiously, he steps around the small stacks of records littered across the floor as he moves to the front of the couch. “So, what exactly are you doing?”

Jotting a few notes down in a journal, I tell him, “I’m getting my affairs in order.”

He asks, “Why?” I don’t respond, still not really in the mood to tell him about my nearing death.

Sitting down next to me, he finally says what’s clearly been on his mind since he walked through the door. “Okay, you’re acting weird.”

“You haven’t known me long enough to know what’s weird for me,” I mumble, flipping through a few copies with the ink smeared so bad I can’t read them.

“Ah, yeah, you’re right,” he amends. “Let me clarify. You’re acting weird for a _human person.”_

Irked, I finally turn my head to glare up at him. “You’re not as funny as I think you are.”

A pleasantly surprised, gleeful smile takes over his whiskered face. “You think I’m funny?”

“That’s not what I said.”

“It totally is-ttebayo.”

“No.”

A few seconds pass in silence, during which I continue to read yet another document with badly smudged ink. The only clear writing on it is the serial number on the bottom. Besides that, all I can tell is that I signed it by stamping it with my clan’s crest instead of using my signature. Why would I do that? And since when have I ever carried a seal of the Uzumaki crest around with me?

Okay, seriously, what the fuck does this say?

In an attempt to interpret it better, I squint my already chinky eyes, managing to make out “Uchiha” in the second line and “custody” in the third paragraph. Is this a report of a mission I took with an Uchiha to drop some criminal off somewhere? Or was I assigned to pick up someone being extradited to Uzushio from the Uchiha police corps?

I stare at the document for another second before slamming it onto the designated Mission-Reports-I-Plan-to-Burn Pile, figuring it doesn’t matter what it says because whatever it’s about is over and therefore irrelevant.

I go to snatch another paper from the box, but my hand is knocked away as Naruto suddenly tips the box over and tosses all its contents onto the ground.

 _“No,”_ I shriek, shooting to my feet and watching as the entire set-up I’d created topples, papers falling from their neat stacks and scattering onto the floor as they’re hit by the onslaught of untouched paperwork from the box.

I wait until the last sheet of paper settles before slowly turning to look down at Naruto. He sits calmly on the sofa, smiling up at me as though he hadn’t just ruined hours upon hours of tedious work. “What the _hell,_ Naruto?”

Resolutely, he stands and tugs at my wrist to get me to follow him out of the living area. “You’re being all tense and weird, and you need to relax—”

“No, I’m not, and no, I don’t,” I angrily interrupt.

“—so I’m gonna take you out for a drink with me and my friends—”

At the mere mention of venturing outside of the safety of the apartment—into the village, where the perpetrator of my upcoming demise lurks—I fly into a panic, attempting to wrench myself free of Naruto’s grasp by dragging my feet against the floor. Alas, he’s bigger and stronger, rendering my struggling ineffective as he yanks me along with him on his way to the front door. “No, no, _no,_ Naruto, wait!”

“Nope, you’re going,” he replies, using one hand to pull his shoes on while keeping his other firmly wrapped around my wrist to prevent my escape.

Although, I could always use Merge no jutsu to escape. . . .

Ha-ha. Looks like I’ll escape death _and_ an awkward night at the bar.

* * *

What. The. Fuck.

Surrounded by loud, inebriated shinobi in a dark, dingy saloon, I can’t help but wonder as to how _the fuck_ Naruto managed to drag me down here. I even put my shoes on myself and he let go of my wrist halfway to the bar. He really _is_ persuasive. No wonder he’d been able to convince his own rogue teammate to return. Damn Konohans and their will of fire.

I’m standing at a raised table, watching as Sakura and Ino attempt to out-drink each other while Sai counts their shots, occasionally taking some of his own. The Uchiha is standing _way_ to close to Sakura and will _not_ stop staring at her, but they’re both far too intoxicated to realize how they may appear to any onlookers. Naruto is flitting around the pub, greeting everyone as if he’s hosting a party.

Ugh, I hate drunk people.

“Shit, Forehead,” Ino exclaims, slurring her words a little as she slams down the empty glass of her fifth shot. “No more hard liquor. I can’t—I-I-I need to switch to beer.”

Sakura pounds back two more shots of tequila before turning to her left to look at her friend. Subtly swaying from side to side, she smirks and asks, “Are you sure, Pig? I’m only leading by two shots.”

“Uh, yeah,” Ino mumbles, shaking her head at Sai’s attempt to give her another shot. Once he understands that she’s finished, he shrugs and downs it himself.

“Hmm, fine,” Sakura sighs, appearing more relaxed than I’ve ever seen her. Sweetly, she turns to face the man on her other side. “Sasuke-kun, will you go get some beers for us please?”

His dark eyes having not wavered from her even as she’d turned her attention to him, he pins her with his deep stare, leaving her visibly flustered. After another moment, he merely says, “Sure,” before venturing to the bar to fulfill her request.

Sai suddenly leans into my side, startling me. “I believe what we just witnessed is known as sexual tension, yes, Eye-bags?”

Brushing off the annoying nickname, I look at Sakura to find her biting her lip and gazing longingly at the Uchiha’s back. Turning back to Sai, I mutter, “Oh, yeah.”

Abruptly, he smacks his hand onto the table, startling me yet again. “I knew it. I am _so_ good with emotions,” he affirms, almost savage in his drunken conviction. I nod briefly, hoping he’ll just stop talking to me.

Sasuke returns with Naruto hanging off him, the blond trying and failing to pluck one of the drinks from his hand. As soon as they reach the table, Naruto detaches himself from his friend and hops over to me, laying an affectionate, wet kiss on my cheek in greeting and draping himself over me instead.

From across the table, Ino catches everyone’s attention with a disgruntled sound. “Where’s my beer,” she questions Sasuke, glaring at him.

He shrugs. “I never said I’d get you one.”

Clearly miffed, she glances at Sakura drinking from a fresh bottle, and then back to Sasuke. “Yeah-huh. Forehead asked you to get us some, and then you agreed, and then you went to go and do that. I was there.”

Taking a swig of his own beer, he seems to ponder on what to say for a brief moment. Finally, he murmurs, “I thought she was talking about me and her.”

Ino rolls her eyes at this, turning away and grumbling, “Yeah fucking right.”

There’s a lull in the conversation, and before one of the drunk people at the table can fill it, I speak up. “So, Naruto, where’s Hinata?”

Naruto picks his head up off my shoulder to respond. “Her dad won’t let her drink, so she’s—” a brief pause ensues as he hiccups, “—not here.”

“Well, I’m not surprised,” I tell him, reaching for my water and taking a quick sip. “The Hyuuga are a bevy of stuck-up stick-in-the-muds. All the noble clans of Konoha are.”

“Hey,” Ino squeaks, indignant.

I spare her a quick, unimpressed glance. “The Yamanaka aren’t noble.”

“Oh, okay,” she mumbles, her shoulders slumping from their irate position. “Wait; hey!”

I shake my head good-naturedly at her. “Seriously, though. The Hyuuga, the Senju, the Uchiha, the Sarutobi—just a bunch of entitled wet blankets.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Sasuke giving me an angry glare for trashing his clan, and I decide to have a little fun with him. “The Uchiha especially were _super_ stodgy. Never straying from the rules; never going out of their way to have fun.” Now his lip is curling. “There was this one guy,” I continue, “Fugaku, _so_ annoying. He was always there whenever I wanted to do anything fun. Always with the: ‘Uzumaki, don’t do this. Uzumaki, don’t do that.’ Always thought he was right . . .” I trail off as I take notice of Sasuke’s suddenly dismayed expression.

Jeez, maybe I shouldn’t have picked the kid’s dead clan, even if I’m not particularly fond of him. It was kind of mean. I know I’d be pissed if someone did that to me.

Before I can apologize, Sakura cuts in. “If you hated him so much, why spend time with him?”

“Oh, well,” I babble, desperately trying to backtrack. “He wasn’t so bad, really. But, um, I was actually pretty close friends with one of his teammates, Mik—” My breath hitches as my train of thought goes off its tracks.

_That’s where I know Sasuke. That’s who he looks like._

Eyes wide, breath quick and shallow, my gaze turns back to Sasuke, and I realize why he looks so fucking shocked.

I try to string a sentence together, but it just comes out as “Y-y-you—”

A cold, mournful sensation that’s been all too familiar as of late has begun to creep into my chest, and I find it difficult to keep my dinner down.

Mikoto and Fugaku had always liked each other, but Fugaku was an Uchiha in the head family, and as such he’d been promised to somebody else before they’d even met. I always assumed that their attraction had fizzled out over time, and they’d married other people. I also assumed that I haven’t seen or heard from Mikoto since my return because she was on an extended mission out of the village.

But no. She’s fucking dead.

Upset and utterly distressed, I attempt to once again to say something— _anything_ —to Sasuke. Sasuke, who is Mikoto’s _son,_ meaning I have yet another late friend who left behind a child that I— _wait_ —

Wait—

Wait—

Wait—

_Wait._

I have a bad feeling.

Everyone at the table has been staring at me in varying degrees of shock for the past minute—aside from Sakura, who’s looking at Sasuke, concern etched onto her face. My expression having turned to that of suspicion, they take notice, and Sai asks, “Eye-bags, is something wrong?”

A little frantic at this point, I ramble, “I, uh, yeah, I, um, I have to go—I think—yeah, I have to go,” bolt from the table, and head straight to Naruto’s apartment.

Once I’m through the door, I rush over to the mess of papers on the living room floor, silently cursing Naruto for ruining my perfectly organized stacks. I root through a few piles before my eyes land on the poorly-copied, unreadable document signed with an Uzumaki seal that I’m almost _sure_ isn’t mine.

A seal I’m now almost sure is Kushina’s.

Document in hand, I’m out the door again, taking off towards the Konoha Records Office.

With my chakra-fused speed, I’m there in under a minute, bursting through the door of the small building next to the Hokage Tower. The elderly night-shift employee behind the counter startles at my sudden appearance, spitting out the food he’d been chewing. “Why are you here? We are closed!”

“Oh, please,” I mutter, taking long, quick strides across the room. I slam the document in my hand onto the countertop, and slide it across to him. “I need to see the original of this. _Now,”_ I demand, leveling an intimidating glare at him.

He scoffs, pushing his food aside and taking a closer look at the piece of paper. “You shinobi, always in such a rush,” he gripes to himself, as though I can’t hear him. After another few seconds, he stalks off to fulfill my request.

I’ve been pacing for a while when he finally returns, a full fifteen minutes having passed. “What the hell took so long,” I snap, nearly ripping the sheet of paper as I tear it from his hands.

My eyes scour the document in search of any words that might confirm my suspicions. I’m so focused on reading that I almost miss the man behind the counter grumble, “Calm down, kunoichi. That document was dated almost twenty-four years ago. This could not possibly be an urgent matter.” Distracted, I tell him to shut up by way of a short, miffed grunt.

Halfway down the page, I find the confirmation I’d been looking for, and I just start screaming.

* * *

I set out at dawn for the Uchiha burial grounds, and having to pick my way around ruin and debris just to get to them. Unfortunately, I’m not surprised the village didn’t see it fit to clean up the Uchiha district after Pein’s attack three years ago.

Now, after kneeling in the dirt for close to twenty minutes, I’ve scrubbed off all the grime that’d accumulated on Mikoto’s grave marker since it was last cleaned.

“Wow, Miko-chan,” I address my dearly departed friend. “That took forever—not that you’re not worth it, of course.” Grimly, I add, “Although, I am dreading cleaning the other graves as I can only imagine yours is one of the cleaner ones.”

I stare forward at the words carved into the stone, not really reading them. I’m not quite sure what to say. After all, I only found out about her death yesterday. Maybe I should clean Fugaku’s grave and talk to him, then circle back and—

“What are you doing here?”

Startled, I snap my head around to see Sasuke glaring down at me.

Damn, my game sure is off this morning. I can’t believe I let him sneak up on me.

Scowling, I remark, “What, like you own the graveyard?”

“Actually, I do,” he replies coolly.

I feel my face scrunch up in thought. “Oh, yeah, huh? That makes sense.”

He turns his head, and I hear him mumbling something about “the Uzumaki” and “stupidity.”

After a calming breath or two, I manage to restrain myself from throttling him.

“So,” I start as I clamber to my feet and cross my arms. “You gonna try to kick me out or something?” I try to complete my intimidating look with a glare, but he’s a full head taller than me, and I just don’t think it’s working.

I’m surprised as he abruptly changes the subject. “How close were you with my parents?”

“Oh, um,” I mumble, trying to gather my wits. “Pretty close, I guess. I mean, closer with your mom for sure.” For a moment, my mind sidetracks, and I trail off, “Wow, that kinda sounded like one of those ‘yo mamma’ jokes that Inuzuka kid keeps making. . . .”

“Focus up, Uzumaki,” Sasuke snaps.

“What? I answered your question,” I shriek. “Man, you’re just like your dad. I don’t know why I didn’t realize it sooner.”

His lips twist down on one side at that. Clearly, he doesn’t like other people talking about his family.

In an attempt to comfort him, I say, “Look, I know you probably feel like I’m sticking my nose where it doesn’t belong, but Mikoto and I really were very close. After my team died, I didn’t have anyone else to talk to, so I confided in her whenever I visited Konoha. She became one of my best friends.”

Silently, he stares—glares, really—at me for a moment, as though he’s appraising my words for genuineness. Finally, he asks, “How did you meet?”

“Our chuunin exams—their first ones, at least.” That’s all I tell him, but I remember so much more. I remember meeting their team—Mikoto, Fugaku, and a Hyuuga girl—in Konoha’s Forest of Death. I remember Souichirou almost killing the girls before Misaki and I pulled him away. I remember that in the third round, after Mikoto had already been eliminated, Fugaku knocked my tooth out, and I returned the favor by breaking his arm.

Yeah, I really shouldn’t tell him any of that.

“How come you seemed so surprised to find out they were dead?”

“What is this, a game of Twenty Questions?”

“Just answer, Uzumaki!”

“I know you know my given name,” I argue, albeit pointlessly.

He turns to face me fully, looking especially livid.

I put my hands up in an effort to mollify him. “Alright, alright. I knew Fugaku was dead, but Mikoto was a shock.”

His brow furrows in confusion, “How?”

My brow furrows in confusion, as well. “I didn’t _know_ they were gonna get married.”

“Why would that matter?”

If possible, my face contorts even further with bewilderment. “What?”

“She still would have died,” he says slowly, as though speaking to a child.

Suddenly, our misunderstanding becomes very clear to me. My eyebrows shoot up as my realization hits. “Oh, shit. You don’t know.”

“Don’t know what,” he grits out.

As gently as I can, I tell him, “Last I saw your mother, her name was Aragaki Mikoto.”

Completely dumbfounded, he drops his gaze to the ground and mumbles, “What?”

For a moment, he remains silent, so I decide to change the subject. “Do you happen to know where Uchiha Tomeru’s grave is?”

He looks back up to me, and I find myself explaining, “When I was four-years-old, a deranged member of my clan kidnapped various children around my age. He and his disciples conducted experiments on us with Forbidden Seals.”

“Forbidden Seals?”

“Yeah, they’re body seals that’re _extremely_ volatile. Most people don’t survive the first use of the seal, and even more don’t even make it past initial placing of the seal.”

Taking a deep breath, I continue, “Anyway, after a couple months, we were rescued from the, um, abandoned hospital that we were in, and it was your clan—the Uchiha clan—that did the rescuing.”

“And Uchiha Tomeru rescued you,” he questions.

“No, he was with us,” I murmur.

I look away from him, suddenly finding his appearance oddly similar to the boy I once barely knew. Why do all the Uchiha look so alike?

“He didn’t make it.” It’s not a question.

I can’t quite keep myself from sighing. “No, he didn’t. They put a seal that protects the user from gen- and doujutsu on him. A few minutes later, his sharingan manifested as a last-ditch defense mechanism, and a couple hours after that, he was dead.”

Nervously, I run my finger over a spot on the nape of my neck where that very seal rests, hidden by my hair.

“Where is your seal,” he asks, analytically sweeping his eyes over my form.

I pick at one of my removable sleeves. “On my arms.”

“So, you have two,” he concludes.

I circumvent the truth by saying, “Each arm has one half of the seal.”

He nods, opening his mouth to likely continue giving me the third degree—and to think I’d believed he didn’t talk much—but I cut him off. “You know what, I came here to be depressed about your mom, and now I’m depressed for a whole bunch of other reasons. So, let’s just leave it at this, alright?”

“Hn, fine. Back to my parents, then. How come—?”

“Ah-ah,” I interject, wagging a finger. “I wanna clean your dad’s grave, say a few words to your parents, then find and clean Tomeru’s grave and say a few words to him. After that, you can buy me lunch, and I’ll tell you _all_ about them.”

He glares at me again. “I’m not buying you lunch.”

“Wow, that’s how you treat your friends? Color me not surprised,” I tease him.

His glare intensifies. “We’re not friends.”

“Yeah, we are.”

“No—”

 _“Yes,”_ I interrupt in a sing-song voice.

He turns and strides away from me, but I can still hear him mutter, “You’re just like Naruto.”

“Thank you,” I call as he looks between grave markers, hopefully searching for Tomeru’s.

“Not a compliment,” he calls back.

A small smile on my face, I turn back to Mikoto’s grave. “Well, Miko-chan, your son is an asshole. No offense.”

A cold breeze blows past me, and I find myself blurting, “Holy shit, I take it back! Don’t haunt me!”


	11. Something Big

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been a while, but I've had multiple final weeks in the last two months and I just got my first job!  
> Anyway, please read, comment and enjoy!

“I just don’t understand,” I tell Ino. “What’s the secret?”

Sorting through a messy display of various bras in the middle of a _very_ pink store, Ino rolls her eyes. “There’s no secret. It’s just a shop name, Nara.”

“Yes, I know,” I mumble, picking up a lacy blue strip of fabric before wrinkling my nose and throwing it back. “But what _is_ Atsuko’s secret?”

“There’s no secret,” she shrieks, turning around and shoving multiple bras into my arms. “Now, go into the dressing rooms and ask one of the sales associates to size you. Then, try on the bras that match that size.” Grumbling, I march towards the dressing rooms and follow the rest of Ino’s instructions. The sales clerk wraps a tape measure around my chest and tells me I’m a size 34A—whatever that means. I try on the appropriate bras, but none of them feel very comfortable.

I step outside in search of Ino, but run into Sakura instead. “Hey, none of these worked. They’re kind of itchy.”

She looks down at the selection of bras in my hands and rolls her eyes. “That’s because this is all lingerie.” She turns to the display beside her, picks up a far sturdier looking garment and hands it to me. “Here, this is a sports bra. It should work for you.”

The sports bra turns out to be a much better fit, just as Sakura suggested, so I purchase it—along one of the lacy bras that Ino positively insisted I buy—and meet Ino and Sakura outside the shop. Upon noticing me, Ino exclaims, “Alright, let’s go to brunch! You’re paying.”

“Ugh, no,” I groan. I’d returned from a three-week-long mission this morning and immediately gone to turn in my mission report. Ino had cornered me in the hall outside of the Rokudaime’s office as soon as I’d stepped out and bullied me into shopping with her and Sakura. “All I’ve wanted since I stepped into the village this morning was to bathe in something other than a freezing river.” Holding my hands up, I add, “Also, I still have blood under my fingernails.”

Ino and Sakura both wrinkle their noses at the sight of the bodily fluids of the lunatic former advisor to the Fire daimyo caked under my nails. Ino sighs in acquiescence. “Fine. You get out of brunch this time.”

Jesting, Sakura asks, “Can I get out of brunch?”

“No,” Ino barks as the two of them start on their way.

I start making my way to Naruto’s apartment so I can _finally_ take a hot shower. When I’m halfway there, I realize I’m going to need my key to get in as I maxed out my chakra on the way back to the village. “Shit,” I mumble, rifling through the pouch at my waist.

I turn a corner with my head down so I can search for the key and run smack-dab into someone, dropping my shopping bag in the process. “Jeez, I’m so sorry,” I apologize. “I wasn’t watching where I was going and I was looking for m—”

Oh, fuck. It’s Iruka.

Of fucking _course,_ it is.

“Oh, it’s alright, Nara-san,” he says with a perfectly carefree smile on his stupid, gorgeous fucking face. Meanwhile, my hand is twitching as it hangs next to the kunai holster on my thigh. He bends down to pick up the bag I’d dropped, and my entire body tenses for two reasons. One, he’s closer to me now, and could totally bolt up and bury a senbon in my neck. Two, that bag is full of _bras._

“Thanks,” I bite out before he can say anything, ripping the bag out of his hand and hiding it behind my legs. “I, um, must be going now.”

 _‘Must be going now?’_ What the fuck was that? Who am I? First, I drop a bag of bras, and then I start acting like some old nobleman from a hundred years ago? What a fucking turn-off.

Not that I want to be a _turn-on,_ of course. That would be crazy, and I’m definitely not crazy. I mean, I—

“Where are you headed,” Iruka asks, halting my rampant train of thought in its tracks.

“I, um, I,” I babble mindlessly, embarrassing the shit out of myself. “Shower,” I finish lamely.

His brow raised, he bemusedly echoes, “Shower?”

Holding back a mix of a groan and a sigh, I stutter out, “Uh, uh, I, um, _gah,_ just got back from a long mission and there were, like, no inns or hostels or anything, so . . .”

Chuckling, he agrees. “Ah, yes. I know the feeling.”

“Yeah,” I reply, giggling. “I know, right?”

Hold on, am I _flirting with him?_ Dammit, Nara, get your head in the game!

Or is it out of the game?

Whatever!

“What game?”

“What,” I ask dumbly, looking into Iruka’s brown, brown eyes.

“You were talking about some game,” he elaborates, and my eyes widen as I realize I said all of that stuff _aloud._

As calmly as possible, I tell him, “Nothing. I’m just tired, and I . . . must be going now, so bye,” and run away from him. Again.

* * *

Whilst rummaging around the trunk I’d bought a few weeks back in which to store my belongings, I make a mental checklist of all the things I need for my upcoming mission.

“Hey, Nara-baa,” Naruto calls from the kitchen. “Can you come here for a sec?”

“Why,” I call back, still rooting around for the scroll in which my swords are sealed.

“Just c’mere,” he whines. Rolling my eyes, I comply, coming to lean against the counter next to Sasuke and across from Naruto.

I give him a bored stare. “What?”

Looking down at some notes he’d scrawled, he grumbles, “I don’t know what to do for Hinata’s birthday.”

“Well, when is it?”

Rubbing his face, he answers, “The twenty-seventh.”

“So, you gave yourself four days to figure it out,” I question him, my brow raised.

“What,” he blurts out, raising his head to look at me. “No.”

_“Yes.”_

“No,” he insists, his voice getting a little loud.

Voice firm, I tell him. “Naruto, the twenty-seventh is Friday.”

“Yeah, _next_ Friday,” he shrieks, growing frantic.

“Naruto, it’s the twenty-third!”

Naruto proceeds to gape at me, completely silent.

I turn to Sasuke, finding a small smile on his face. “Were you just gonna stand by and watch this disaster unfold?” He shrugs noncommittally.

The door suddenly bursts open as Sakura arrives. “Sorry that I’m late. My parents wouldn’t let me leave before they _watched_ me eat a full meal ‘cause they think I haven’t been eating between all my shifts.” She pauses to puff out a groan. “Not that it’s _really_ any of their concern anymore since I’m a grown woman and can damn-well take care of myself,” she finishes in a huff, slipping her jacket off and throwing it on the couch before coming to stand on my other side.

“Sounds like a drag,” Naruto mutters, sounding utterly unimpressed.

“Yeah, I—” Sakura’s eyes widen suddenly. “Oh, right. Sorry,” she mumbles sheepishly, her eyes darting back and forth between her teammates.

Confused at her abrupt and seemingly unwarranted apology, I blurt out, “Huh?”

“Sorry,” she apologizes again. “I was being inconsiderate.”

Brow furrowing, I look around the room. “Am I missing something here?”

“Well,” Sakura says, ducking her head and rubbing the back of her neck, “You guys are all . . . orphans, so I shouldn’t have been complaining—”

“Oh, that’s nonsense!” Turning to face the boys, I condescend, “Are you two really so emotionally immature that your friend cannot confide in you?” Naruto and Sasuke avert their gazes, having the decency to look somewhat ashamed.

“Anyway,” Sakura chirps, the cheer in her voice added to divert the sour direction in which the conversation had gone. “What’s going on, Naruto? You sounded pretty on edge when you called.”

“He forgot his girlfriend’s birthday,” Sasuke betrays, an amused lilt to his voice. My nephew glares at him.

An appalled sound slips from Sakura’s lips, and her face scrunches up in indignation. “Naruto, that’s terrible!”

“I didn’t forget,” Naruto wails. “I just mixed up the weeks.”

“Mhm,” his pink-haired teammate intones.

Figuring that I’m no longer needed as Sakura is now here, I slowly shrink back and make my way back to my trunk. I collect the rest of the things I’ll need for my mission and quickly store them on my person before picking up the mission scroll and heading for the door. My hand is closed around the knob when Naruto pipes up. “Wait, Nara-baa, where are you going?”

I hold up the scroll in my hand and give it a little shake. “Mission.”

Pouting, he whines, “But you just got back from one this morning.”

Giving him a shrug, I turn to leave, but this time I’m stopped by Sakura. “Wait.”

“Ugh, what,” I groan.

A scrutinizing expression on her face, she strides towards me. “I haven’t seen you since we went shopping two weeks ago.”

“Okay,” I grant her, not really seeing her point.

“And that day you’d just returned from a _three-week_ mission,” she continues, coming to stand before me.

“Okay,” I say again, uneasy as I realize where she’s going with this.

She crosses her arms. “You were authorized to start going on missions less than two months ago.” Tipping her head back, she asks, “How many have you been on since then?”

“Two,” I lie, shrugging.

_“Nara.”_

Under my breath, I incoherently mumble, “Seven.”

Arms crossed, she leans closer to me. “What was that?”

I let an angry breath out and glare at her. _“Seven.”_

“Oh, my gosh,” she shrieks, face contorting in shock. “That’s insane! Aren’t you tired?”

“No,” I deny. “You are.”

She scowls at me, clearly not find of my childish behavior. “You need rest.”

“No,” I counter. “I need to go pretend to be a whore and kill a brothel owner.”

Sakura cringes. “You’re going on a seduction mission?”

“Yeah,” I answer, not quite sure why she seems so disgusted. “They pay _so_ much more than they used to. Last week, I got _two-thousand ryō_ for fucking some old man, and I didn’t even have to leave the village, do any butt stuff, or—”

“La la la la la,” Naruto starts screaming to drown me out, fingers plugging his ears.

“Alright, I get it,” I call out over him. “See you losers in a few days!”

Over the next week and a half, I take two more missions. Sakura is waiting for me at the village gates when I get back from the second one. “Oh, no,” I grumble, continuing on my way to the Hokage Tower. “What is it?”

She falls into step beside me. “I know why you’ve been taking so many missions.”

Sarcastically, I guess, “Because I’m a shinobi?”

An accomplished smirk rests on her face. “No. You want to get your own apartment.”

Oh, shit. She is good.

“Shhh,” I whisper harshly, stopping to face her. “Naruto can’t find out.”

“He’s not even here,” she replies.

“He has the Kyuubi. That thing can hear everything for miles,” I rebuke. She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t dignify my statement with a response. We resume walking. “How did you even figure that out?”

“Well, I noticed that you weren’t really buying any new clothes or weapons, and figured the money must be going towards something big,” she tells me. I glare at her out of the corner of my eyes. It still doesn’t make sense that she’d been able to guess with so little information. “Besides,” she continues. “I’ve been doing the same thing.”

My eyebrows raise at this. “Oh?”

She sighs. “Yeah, I love my parents, but I just can’t live with them anymore. I need my own space, so I’ve been saving up.” I nod as I understand her problem well. I love Naruto—adore him, really—but he is _such_ a slob. “And I was thinking,” she goes on. “You and I could get an apartment together.”

When we stop this time, we’re just outside of the Tower. “Oh?”

“Yes,” Sakura insists. “The rent would be cheaper for both of us, we could get a bigger place in a better part of town, and unlike Naruto, I’m tidy.”

“Hmm,” I nod again. “This could work.”

“Of course,” she sniffs. “It’s brilliant, just like all my ideas.”

I roll my eyes as I realize this is what living with her is going to be like. “Alright,” I accept. “You got yourself a deal, sister.”

We shake on it.

* * *

“I’m sorry,” I call out from behind one end of the stove in my new apartment. “Why are we feeding him again?”

Earlier today, Sakura and I had moved into our new place. We’d found a comfy, two-bedroom apartment right by the hospital after two weeks of apartment hunting. It has a landline, a device that allows one to speak to others far away—I’m still not sure how it works—an in-unit washer and dryer, and best of all: a bathtub big enough in which to fully immerse oneself. I’d moved all my own boxes—I had three—but Sakura had apparently needed help with hers, so Sasuke had pitched in.

Sakura, who’s holding our sofa above her head, turns around. Sasuke ducks to avoid being beheaded. “He’s helping us set up our apartment,” she reminds me. “It’s only polite.”

Stirring the noodles, I retort, “He has one arm. He carried, like, four things.”

“I have ears, Uzumaki,” he snaps, plopping down on the couch Sakura had finally placed five feet from the kitchen island.

“Oh, do you really have ears, Sasuke,” I respond sarcastically. “Like all human beings? We all have ears.”

 _“Enough,”_ Sakura cuts in. She places a thin-necked lamp on the wooden side table beside the couch. “Don’t you have a meeting with Kakashi-sensei?”

I place the lid of the pot over the noodles and cross my arms. “No. That’s at four.”

She plugs the lamp into an outlet by the front door. “We need to tape this wire down so no one trips on it. Also, it’s seven past four.”

There’s a silent moment in which the other two occupants of the room regard me with amused glances, but it ends as I snap into motion and dash through the door.

Two minutes later, I’m bursting through the doors of the Hokage’s office. “I’m here, I’m here,” I declare, out of breath.

“About time, Uzumaki-sama,” someone snaps. I look up to see a face I’d wished I’d never see again: that of Utatane Koharu.

“Oh, fuck no,” I breathe, eyes sliding to find Mitokado Homura, as well. “You assholes are still alive?”

Koharu tilts her ancient head to the side. “I see you’re still rude,” she remarks.

Nonplussed, I fire back, “I see you two are still Danzo’s bitches, despite the old fart’s well-deserved death.” I bring a hand up to my chin, conveying mock contemplation. “Tell me; how is government corruption these days?”

“Let’s get this over with, shall we,” Kakashi interjects, tired eyes flitting from me to the elders.

“Let’s,” Koharu agrees, sliding a document out of a folder and handing it to me. “We’re assigning you a kill order.”

“Okay,” I mumble, slightly skeptical. My eyes slide over the order’s contents, not really absorbing anything. It’s nothing I haven’t read before. “Why the fancy meeting for a simple kill order?”

Homura chimes in. “Read the target.”

One eyebrow raised, I zero in on the target’s name: Uchiha Sasuke.

“What is the meaning of this,” I sputter, throwing the kill order onto the desk in outrage. “Kaka-chan?” So unsettled by this horrifying turn of events, I unintentionally let slip my old nickname for him.

Kakashi is quick in his attempt to calm me. “I’m not happy about it either, Uzumaki-sama. However, Sasuke has caused his fair share of trouble in the past.” I give him an incredulous look, and he goes on, “The elders have pulled rank, I’m afraid.”

Koharu makes a dissatisfied sound, and I whirl on her. Sasuke may not be my favorite person—or my hundredth favorite person—but damn it if the guy isn’t growing on me. “He’s been cleared of all his past crimes. You have no right to—”

“It’s not an active order,” she says in an attempt to appease me, stepping forward and pointing out the section in which this is clear on the document. _“If_ he behaves in a destructive manner deemed threatening to the safety of the village, the kill order will be triggered.”

“Now, the question is,” she continues, eyes narrowing just as I remember, “are you up to the task?”

It’s perfectly clear to me that should I not accept this order, they’ll pass it onto someone else. Someone that doesn’t have Sasuke’s best interests at heart. After all, the only other people close to him capable of killing him are Naruto and Sakura, and neither of them would ever take it. Koharu and Homura will likely pass it onto some ANBU that couldn’t care less and would quite possibly slit his throat in his sleep. What’s more, Koharu isn’t doubting me due to my fondness for the last Uchiha. She’s doubting my loyalty to Konoha. She knows I despise not only the elders and past Hokages for my misfortunes and the destruction of Uzushio, but the village as a whole, as well. If I don’t take this order, I’ll compromise my own legitimacy as a law-abiding citizen.

Cautiously, I take the kill order back into my grasp. “I killed my own parents,” I remind her. “If the boy has to go, he’ll go.”

* * *

Sakura has been quiet today. A little too quiet. Of course, I haven’t lived with her for very long, so who knows. Maybe she only talks outside of the home. It’s when she opens her mouth to say something before changing her mind _for the fifth time_ that I lose my patience.

“Oh, my gosh.” I jump from the couch and follow her into her room. “What is wrong with you?”

Her room is much nicer than mine. Where mine is disorganized with clothes and weaponry strewn everywhere, hers in neat and practically color-coded. Natural light streams in through the window on the other side of the room, highlighting the pastel pinks and greens that match her hair and eyes.

“Nothing,” she lies through her teeth, sitting on her bed and nervously scratching her head in a way that she only could’ve picked up from Naruto.

I lean on her desk. “Oh, really,” I ask, unconvinced. “Because it seems like—What’s this?” On the top of her desk lies a rather conspicuous document. A kill order to be exact. _With my name on it._

“Sakura,” I start, picking up the order. Her eyes are wide as she slowly stands from the bed. “What the fuck is this?”

She’s careful to keep her distance. “I can explain.”

“Oh.” I slide a kunai from my holster. “You better do it quick.” I don’t want to have to slit her throat—I like Sakura, if I’m being honest; she’s adorable—but I will if it comes to that.

“It’s not an active order,” she assures me, and I have a flashback to yesterday. “It’s just for _if_ you go nuts and kill someone.”

“What,” I snap. “Why would I just randomly—”

Wait.

Suspicious, I stride from the room and locate the kill order I’d received the day before. I come back and hand it to Sakura. “We have a problem.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did anyone catch my "The Office" reference?  
> P.S. The next few chapters are heavy! Get ready!


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